I  ALUMNI  LIBRARY, 

t  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,  f 
I  ¥ 

f"  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  * 

*  f- 

BX  8495   .C57  A3  1833b 
Clarke,  Adam,  17607-1832. 
An  account  of  the  infancy, 
religious  and  literary  lif<5 


ft 


* 


■ 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

OF 

ADAM  CLARKE,  LL.D., 

ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC. 

( tl3-  See  the  Preface.) 


AN  ACCOUNT 


INFANCY,  RELIGIOUS  AND  LITERARY  LIFE, 

ADAM  CLARKE,  LL.D.,  F.A.S., 

ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC. 

WRITTEN  BY  ONE 

WHO  WAS  INTIMATELY  ACQUAINTED  WITH  HIM  FROM  HIS 
BOYHOOD  TO  THE  SIXTIETH  YEAR  OF  HIS  AGE. 


EDITED  '  V  THE 

Rev.  J.  B.  B.  CLARKE,  M.  A., 

THIN.  COM,.  CAMBRIDGE. 


Habuit  a  nalura,  genus  quoddam  acuminis,  quod  etiam  arte  limaverit, 
(/hoc?  crat  in  rcprchendis  verbis  versutum  el  solera  ;  sed  sccpe  stomacho- 
sum,  vonmtnquam  friuidum,  inlerdtim  eliamfaretum. 

Xap,n  St  Ocov,  tip  6  (Mil. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.  CLINTON  HALL. 

»•'■»  *  HmrjULJ  ;  ColliiiK*  Co.;  N.  &  J.  Whil»;  J.  Witt :  M-Elrath.Banp,  4  ih-Tbetl  -PhilaMphia 
'">?*  *  VMM  .  Cir.«r.  Imhh,  A  I  V.  :  i'l.  n,  I,  *  I'-.kin.  -/!„.',„.„„•.    llMtr  H  M'l'oiwll  *<•„ 

Aniinlrun?  Si  I'i.i-k.  I.  -IS,,.fu,    (•„,>«,  il.  n.l- .-.  4  C,     I  *  !  Mm  uuU  ;  IVrkm.  *  Mmiu 

*  Dr>».:«  -lhrlf,,r<t:  1)  F  H..l.in« «  .V  f„  :  F    I    [I   „  _  \,  u-llnm,    A  II  M.iUliv 

11.  Howe*  Co  :  Hone  A  |W»  -.«(•««.•  t>  Sir,  I,.  ;  \V  C.  I .  ,1 1 1,  ■._/,;„„  „  Ma.  k  A  t,«|t„«._  |.V« 
"'■"i'F-4'l'nr,,   VV    W,Hl,U,  i,  _«„,•■'„■„■(,  r;  |  |  „„    I  VlcT.  A  I  u  -  /{„  '|,„„;,,(  ;  K.  1    S„llljj.- A  , „!  I.,, 

>»le  by  BooMltrs  generally. 


PREFACE. 


Digitized  by 

the  Internet  Archive 

in  2014 

https://archive.org/details/accountofinfancy00clar_2 


PREFACE. 


There  are  some  circumstances  respecting  the  succeed- 
ing Memoirs  which  require  explanation,  and  others  which 
need  statement. 

"  If  these  Memoirs  were  written  by  the  late  Dr.  Clarke, 
how  happens  it  that  they  speak  in  the  third  person,  and 
appear  as  though  composed  by  an  intimate  friend?" — 
The  third  person  was  assumed  in  order  to  obviate  an  un- 
pleasant appearance  of  egotism  which  Autobiography 
must  always  assume,  more  or  less  offensive,  according  to 
the  skill  of  the  Narrator.  In  this,  Dr.  Clarke  did  but 
follow  the  example  of  other  great  names,  and  availed 
himself  of  a  disguise,  previously  made  known  to  the 
Readers,  that  the  mere  Individual  might  not  be  per- 
petually obtruding  himself  upon  their  notice :  the  atten- 
tion being  fixed  upon  the  passing  events  and  described 
feelings,  the  Author  temporarily  forgotten,  the  judgment 
may  be  thus  formed,  not  from  the  bias  of  Dr.  Clarke's  felt 


5  PREFACE. 

presence,  but  from  the  facts  as  recorded  in  the  Narrative - 
a  mask  which  gives  courage  but  conceals  no  feature. 


Various  members  of  his  family,  as  well  as  some  of  his 
most  intimate  friends,  frequently  and  urgently  pressed 
Dr.  Clarke  to  publish,  or  prepare  for  publication,  a  Memoir 
of  himself ;  stating  that  this  would  be  the  only  effectual 
mode  of  preventing  false  or  weak  productions  being 
palmed  upon  the  world  as  faithful  Memoirs.  To  all 
representations,  however,  he  remained  deaf,  till  one  day 
a  friend  came  and  told  him,  "  he  had  received  sure  infor- 
mation of  a  Life  of  him  being  even  then  in  preparation ; 
that  all  his  Conversations  had  been  taken  down,  all  his 
Letters  treasured  up,  all  his  Observations  noted,  with  the 
view  of  being  embodied  when  the  anticipated  event  should 
take  place  to  call  them  into  public  being ;  that  little  dis- 
cretion would  be  used  in  selecting;  since,  the  object  being 
gain,  all  would  be  published  which  would  sell ;  and  that 
even  were  some  conscience  shown,  still  there  was  no 
judgment  to  direct;  but  indiscreet  zeal,  or  the  hope  of 
'  ungodly  gains,'  would  slay  his  fame  in  the  house  of  his 
friend."*    Dr.  Clarke  felt  the  force  of  such  observations, 

*  It  is  not  one  of  the  least  remarkable  facts  connected  with  the  life  of 
Dr.  Clarke,  that  the  individual  here  alluded  to  died  before  the  Doctor; 
and  was  visited  by  him  and  his  youngest  son  during  a  long  and  tedious 
illness.  There  is  a  farther  notice  of  this  affair  in  the  following  Letter 
to  his  eldest  son. 

Liverpool,  June  15,  1819. 

My  Dear  John, 

Some  time  ago,  you  wrote  requesting  me  to  set  about  writing  the 
history  of  my  Life ;  this  is  a  task  which,  while  I  have  contemplated, 


PREFACE. 


9 


and  the  next  morning  when  he  came  down  to  breakfast, 
he  said  to  his  friend,  "  I  have  been  up  long  before  day, 

I  have  feared  to  attempt ;  but  I  have  thought  more  of  the  subject,  since 
you  wrote;  and  have  lately  been  obliged  to  think  deeply  on  it  too,  in 
consequence  of  receiving  credible  information,  that  my  Life  is  ready 
for  the  greedy  eye  of  the  public,  so  soon  as  my  heart  shall  be  cold  ! 

I  came  here  yesterday  evening,  and  in  a  private  conversation  with 

my  friend  Mr.  ,  he  most  solemnly  begged,  and  charged  me  to  begin 

the  work,  because  he  knew  some  hackneyed,  and  hunger-bitten  scri- 
veners were  ready  to  praise  me  to  death,  and  to  murder  me  in  verse  so 
soon  as  I  ceased  to  exist  among  men ;  and  I  was  led  to  believe  that 
all  the  conversations,  and  anecdotes  relative  to  myself  and  family  for 
several  years  past,  have  been  carefully  taken  down,  and  as  carefully 
preserved.  Mr.  Comer  took  up  the  same  subject,  and  most  earnestly 
begged  me  instantly  to  begin,  and  defer  it  no  longer.  Well,  what  can 
I  do  1  the  Commentary  is  still  hanging  on  my  hands.  True,  I  am 
free  from  the  Records,  which  gives  me  a  measure  of  leisure,  and  saves 
me  from  much  anxiety;  laying  all  these  considerations  together,  with 
the  semel  calcanda  via,  and  Mr.  Comer  being  in  good  earnest,  and 
having  provided  and  laid  on  his  study  table  ruled  paper  for  the  pur- 
pose, I  sat  down  yesterday  and  made  a  trial !  *  *  *  *  And  thus  have 
I  brought  myself  on  in  my  journey  through  life,  to  the  ninth  year  of 
my  age :  and  unless  death  stop  me,  I  shall  not  stop  in  it  till  this  be 
finished.  I  have  written  it  in  the  third  person  as  to  the  subject,  and  in 
the  first  person  as  to  the  narrator.  This  form  may  be  altered  if  neces- 
sary. I  recollect,  when  Mr.  Thorsby  wrote  his  own  life,  the  pronoun 
/occurred  so  often  in  it,  that  the  printer  was  obliged  to  borrow  i's  from 
his  brother  printers,  as  his  l's  had  run  out.  Your  father  has  never 
been  in  the  habit  of  speaking  much  of  himself ;  he  has  never  boasted, 
nor  pretended  great  things  ;  and  it  would  ill  become  him,  when  about 
to  pass  the  great  deep,  to  occupy  his  time,  or  that  of  his  Readers,  with 
unreal  history,  or  unceremonious,  and,  generally  speaking,  unwelcome 
pronouns.  Now,  suggest  to  me,  my  dear  John,  any  thing  that  strikes 
you— any  thing  I  should  not  forget,  or  any  thing  on  which  I  should 
lay  particular  stress,  &c.  &c. 

July  3.  I  go  on  but  slowly  with  the  Life;  and  yet  I  get  on.  A 
few  pages  more  might  terminate  what  may  be  called  my  initial  and 
religious  history,  and  here  I  might  leave  it,  for  all  the  purposes  of 
illustrating  either  God's  providence  or  His  grace.  My  literary  life, 
as  it  may  be  called,  is  another  thing  ;  and  belongs  more  to  the  world, 
than  to  the  Church  of  God ;  and  I  question  if  ever  I  shall  attempt  it. 


10  PREFACE. 

and  have  written  several  quarto  sheets  of  my  very  close 
and  small  writing  as  a  commencement  of  the  history  of 
my  early  life."  This  he  continued,  at  various  short 
intervals,  till  be  brought  it  down  to  a  period  beyond  which 
no  inducement  or  solicitation  could  persuade  him  to  pro- 
reed;  "  My  early  life"  [much  in  this  manner  he  would 
speak,]  "  no  one  can  know ;  nor  can  any  one  describe  my 
feelings  and  God's  dealings  with  my  soul,  some  of  which 
are  the  most  important  circumstances  in  my  life,  and  are 
of  most  consequence  to  the  religious  world : — these  I  have 
now  secured,  and  placed  in  their  proper  light : — what 
therefore  others  could  neither  have  known  nor  described 
so  truly  as  I,  are  here  prevented  from  being  lost : — my 
public  life  many  have  known,  and  it  is  before  the  world ; 
if  it  be  of  importance,  there  will  be  found  some  who  will 
transmit  its  events  to  posterity;  and  being  passed  before 
the  eyes  of  all  men,  should  there  be  misrepresentations, 
there  will  necessarily  be  plenty  who  can  correct  them : — 
at  any  rate,  I  have  done  what  I  feel  to  be  the  most  import- 
ant part ;  for  the  rest,  there  are  ample  materials ;  and,  as 
the  living  will,  in  all  probability,  write  of  the  dead,  let 
my  survivors  do  their  part. — Nothing  shall  ever  induce 
me  to  torite  the  history  of  that  portion  of  my  life  when  I 
bega?i  to  acquire  fame,  and  great  and  learned  men  saw  fit 
to  dignify  with  their  acquaintance,  and  to  bestow  honours 
and  distinctions  on,  a  Methodist  Preacher."  In  this  reso- 
lution he  never  for  a  moment  wavered,  and  hence  there 
was  no  more  of  his  Life  written  by  himself  than  what  is 
contained  in  the  present  volume. 


PREFACE.  1 1 

When  Dr.  Clarke  was  told  of  the  above  intention  to 
publish  after  his  death  all  that  he  had  either  written  or 
spoken  in  the  confidence  of  private  friendship,  or  in  the 
familiar  intercourse  of  occasional  conversations,  he  was 
very  indignant,  expressing  his  abhorrence  of  such  "  pre- 
meditated treachery,"  as  a  man's  coming  into  a  family  to 
act  the  part  of  a  spy, — to  record  mutilated  opinions,  hand 
down  disjointed  conversations,  and  to  proclaim  as  the  re- 
sult of  deliberate  judgment  what  might  have  been  either 
a  hasty  expression  of  feeling,  or  a  merely  casual  or  unim- 
portant remark : — "  In  conversation  or  correspondence  I 
never  either  spoke  or  wrote  for  the  public ;  friendly  inter- 
course was  my  sole  object  in  the  one  case,  and  in  the 
other  relaxation  from  severe  thought ;  after  I  have  been 
writing  and  studying  from  five  in  the  morning  till  half- 
past  seven  at  night,  it  is  hardly  likely  that  I  should  come 
into  the  parlour  with  a  disposition  or  preparation  to  shine. — 
I  write  because  it  is  necessary,  and  I  talk  because  I  am 
cheerful  and  happy."  The  strong  feeling  of  Dr.  Clarke 
on  this  point  is  thus  recorded,  that  the  Public  may  not 
hereafter  be  deluded  upon  the  subject,  as  if  he  had  au- 
thorized any  to  take  down  any  of  his  conversation  on  any 
occasion: — he  had  too  much  respect  for  the  good  sense 
and  regard  of  mankind  ever  to  come  before  them  with 
inconsideration ;  and  was  the  last  man  in  the  world  ever 
to  be  himself  a  party  consenting  to  the  wounding  of  his 
hard-earned  fame  by  the  publication  of  unprepared  docu- 
ments. Such  conduct  he  always  considered  as  treacherous 
in  a  friend,  disgraceful  to  a  man,  and  shameful  to  a  Chris- 


ra  PREFACE. 

tian.  His  opinion  of  the  publishing  Letters,  because  they 
were  written  by  a  certain  individual,  he  has  himself  ex- 
pressed in  the  following  pages.    (See  page  200.) 

The  Editor  of  this  volume  has  had  very  little  trouble 
in  the  performance  of  his  office ;  for  the  Manuscript  was 
left  in  so  complete  a  state  by  Dr.  Clarke,  that  few  things 
needed  any  alteration.  No  addition  of  any  kind  has  been 
made,  not  even  the  insertion  of  any  thing  which  the  Au- 
thor himself  had  formerly  written,  but  had  not  himself 
introduced:  this  was  judged  necessary,  that  Dr.  Clarke 
might  not  be  rendered  accountable  for  what  another  had 
chosen  to  insert :  for  this  reason  some  Letters  are  referred 
to  the  end  which  might  otherwise  have  been  included  and 
wrought  into  the  body  of  the  Work. 

It  may  be  expedient  to  add  a  few  words  concerning  the 
remaining  portion  of  this  Work,  which  has  been  written 
by  "A  Member  of  the  Family."  For  this  part  Dr.  Clarke 
supplied  all  the  materials ;  he  gave  up  his  Journals,  his 
Common-place  Book,  his  private  papers,  and  wrote  many  of 
the  accounts  contained  in  it  with  his  own  hand ;  and  after 
the  whole  was  digested  into  a  Narrative,  up  to  the  year 
1830,  he  looked  over  it  and  placed  his  signature  to  each 
sheet  as  a  testimony  that  the  alleged  facts  were  true, 
leaving  the  Author  of  course  accountable  for  the  manner 
of  their  expression,  as  well  as  for  the  mode  of  their  com- 
bination. Any  farther  particulars  which  may  be  necessary 
will  be  mentioned  in  the  Preface  to  the  succeeding  volume. 


PREFACE.  13 

It  is  highly  probable  that  many,  on  the  perusal  of  this 
Work,  may  be  inclined  to  exclaim,  "  We  have  heard  strange 
things  to-day;"  and  others  may  be  excited  to  purer  faith 
and  greater  diligence  in  the  ways  of  godliness.  To  the 
latter,  may  the  Author  of  all  good  grant  an  assurance  to 
their  faith,  and  strength  and  continuance  to  their  work- 
ing ;  while  to  the  former,  may  their  hesitancy  be  overcome, 
that  they  may  walk  in  a  like  path,  and  the  "strange 
things"  be  converted  into  the  experienced  feelings  of 
their  own  hearts,  and  the  enjoyed  blessings  in  their  own 
souls. 

J.  B.  B.  CLARKE. 

Frome,  November,  1832 
2 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTRODUCTION. 


It  is  to  be  regretted  that  few  persons  who  have  arrived 
at  any  degree  of  eminence  or  fame,  have  written  Memorials 
of  themselves,  at  least  such  as  have  embraced  their  private 
as  well  as  their  public  life.  By  themselves  or  contempora- 
ries their  public  transactions  have  been  in  general  amply 
recorded,  with  the  apparent  motives  which  led  them  to  their 
particular  lines  of  action,  and  the  objects  they  aimed  at  by 
thus  acting :  but  how  they  became  capable  of  acting  such 
parts  ;  how  theft  minds  acquired  that  impulse  which  gave 
them  this  direction ;  what  part  an  especial  Providence,  pa- 
rental influence,  accident,  or  singular  occurrence,  and  edu- 
cation, had,  in  forming  the  man,  producing  those  habits 
which  constitute  his  manners,  and  prepared  him  for  his 
future  lot  in  life,  we  are  rarely  told.  And  without  this,  we 
neither  can  trace  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  nor  the 
operations  of  those  mental  energies  by  which  such  effects 
have  been  produced.  Hence  the  main  benefit  of  biography 
is  lost, — emulation  leading  to  imitation  has  no  scope.  We 
cannot  follow  the  man  because  we  do  not  see  his  previous 
footsteps :  he  bursts  generally  on  our  sight,  like  a  meteor, 
and  we  are  dazzled  with  the  view :  to  us  he  is  inimitable 
2* 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

because  he  is  enrobed  with  all  his  distinguishing  perfec- 
tions and  eminence  before  we  are  introduced  to  his  acquain- 
tance. Were  it  otherwise,  we  should  probably  see  that 
those  who  have  reached  the  highest  degrees  of  elevation 
beyond  those  who  were  born  in  the  same  circumstances 
and  line  of  life,  were  not  indebted  so  much  to  anything 
extraordinary  in  themselves,  as  to  a  well-timed  and  sedu- 
lous use  of  their  own  powers,  and  such  advantages  as  their 
circumstances  afforded ;  and  that  what  occurs  to  others,  as 
mere  accidents,  were  by  them  seized  and  pressed  into  their 
own  service,  and  shewed  them  the  necessity  of  attentive 
observation,  that  neither  occurrence  nor  moment,  should 
pass  by  unnoticed  or  unimproved. 

We  may  rest  satisfied  that  effects,  which  evidently  have 
nothing  in  them  supernatural,  spring  from  natural  causes : 
that  the  whole  is  an  orderly  procession,  and  appears  asto- 
nishing to  us,  only  because  we  do  not  see  that  concatena- 
tion of  circumstances  which,  by  a  steady  operation,  produ- 
ced the  result. 

Few  men  can  be  said  to  have  inimitable  excellencies : 
let  us  watch  them  in  their  progress  from  infancy  to  man- 
hood, and  we  shall  soon  be  convinced  that  what  they  attain- 
ed was  the  necessary  consequence  of  the  line  they  pursued, 
and  the  means  they  used.  But  these  things  are  not  known, 
because  we  have  not  the  history  of  their  lives  in  any  conse- 
cutive order  :  that  of  their  infancy,  when  life  ordinarily  gets 
its  direction  and  colouring,  is  generally  suppressed  by  them- 


INTRODUCTION  10 

selves  or  narrators ;  possibly,  because  it  is  deemed  insig- 
nificant ;  or  because  men  who  have  risen  out  of  the  lower 
or  middle  classes  of  life,  to  literary  or  civil  distinction, 
are  unwilling  to  tell  their  small  beginnings;  and  thus, 
through  false  shame,  what  would  really  redound  to  their 
honour,  explain  apparent  mysteries  in  the  Providence  which 
conducted  the  affairs  of  their  lives,  and  would  render  those 
lives  truly  and  endlessly  useful,  by  shewing  that  they 
were  perfectly  imitable,  is  lost  to  mankind.  I  say  nothing 
of  those  things  which  may  not  be  improperly  termed  bio- 
graphical romances, — lives  which  were  never  lived,  and 
virtues  which  were  never  practised. 

To  exhibit  a  man  through  every  period  of  his  life,  who 
has  obtained  some  distinction  as  well  in  the  republic  of 
letters  as  in  religious  society ;  and  how  he  acquired  this 
distinction,  is  the  principal  design  of  the  following  sheets: 
and  the  reason  for  doing  this,  is  threefold: — 1.  To  mani- 
fest the  goodness  of  God  to  those  who  trust  in  Him ;  and 
how  He  causes  all  things  to  work  together  for  the  good 
of  such  persons  ;  that  He  may  have  the  praise  of  His  own 
grace :  and,  2dly,  To  prevent  the  publication  of  improper 
accounts,  the  only  object  of  which  is  to  raise  unholy  gains, 
by  impositions  on  the  public.  3dly.  To  shew  to  young 
men,  who  have  not  had  those  advantages  which  arise  from 
elevated  birth  and  a  liberal  education,  how  such  defects 
may  be  supplied  by  persevering  industry,  and  the  redemp- 
tion of  time.  Young  Ministers,  especially,  may  learn 
from  these  Memoirs  a  useful  lesson.    They  see  what  has 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

been  done  towards  mental  improvement,  in  circumstances 
generally  worse  than  their  own,  and  that  a  defect  in  ta- 
lents frequently  arises  from  a  defect  in  self  cultivation : 
and  that  there  is  much  less  room  for  excuse  than  is  ge- 
nerally supposed:  in  short,  that  no  quarter  should  be 
shewn  to  those  who  while  away  time,  and  permit  a  sort  of 
religious  gossipping  to  engender  in  them  the  disgraceful 
habits  of  indolence  or  sloth.  It  is  hoped,  and  not  unreason- 
ably, that  they  will  see  from  a  perusal  of  this  work,  that 
the  divine  Providence  is  never  parsimonious  in  affording 
all  necessary  advantages,  and  if  duly  improved,  neither 
they,  nor  the  people  to  whom  they  minister,  will  have 
much  cause  to  complain  of  a  deficiency  of  gifts  through 
inadequate  supplies  of  Providence,  or  inefficient  influence 
from  grace.  Those  who  consider  such  cases  as  that  here 
exhibited  without  profit,  must  have  an  incurable  hebitude 
of  disposition,  with  which  it  would  be  in  vain  to  contend, 
as  they  have  reconciled  themselves  to  its  indulgence,  and 
thus  have  become  "such  as  cannot  teach,  and  will  not 
learn." 


CONTENTS. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  L 

The  great  human  family  speedily  divided  into  branches    .       .  3*7 
The  surname  of  Clarke  originated  from  the  office  of  clerk      .  38 
The  knowledge  of  letters  not  common  in  ancient  times  in  Eng- 
land  38 

Withred,  king  of  Kent,  A.  D.  700,  signed  a  charter  of  Liberties 

with  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  because  he  could  not  write  39 
Henry  the  First,  the  only  one  of  his  family  that  could  write  .  39 
Boldon  Book  contains  a  Survey  of  the  Bishoprick  of  Durham, 

in  1183  39 

Adam,  the  Clerk,  mentioned  as  tenant  in  it  ...  39 
Various  instances  of  surnames  in  that  and  Domesday,  de- 
rived from  offices  and  employments,  ....  39 
Different  kinds  of  names  among  the  Romans  ....  40 
Difference  between  the  pranomen,  nomcn,  and  cognomen  .  40 
lngenui  among  the  Romans,  the  same  as  gentleman  ainong 

the  English  41 

Family  of  Clarke  originally  English  41 

Went  over  to  Ireland  in  the  seventeenth  century,  and  settled 

in  the  county  of  Antrim  41 

Matrimonial  connexions  41 

Hugh  Stuart  Boyd,  allied  to  the  family  of  Clarke  by  mar- 
riage, and  still  holds  some  of  the  estates      ...  42 
Short  pedigree  of  the  Clarke  family  ....      (note)  42 
Anecdote  of  William  Clarke,  great-great-grandfather  of  Adam 

Clarke  (note)  42 

John  Clarke,  the  great-grandfather,  has  19  children, — 18  sons 

and  1  daughter  ('note)  42 

Horseman  Clarke  died  of  hydrophobia  in  consequence  of  being 

spattered  with  the  foam  of  a  mad  dog  .       .      (note)  43 
The  Clarke  family  lost  their  estates,  in  consequence  of  the  ab- 
sence of  a  material  witness  in  a  trial  at  law       (note)  43 
John  Clarke,  father  of  Adam,  takes  his  degree  of  M.  A.  at 

Edinburgh  and  Glasgow  44 

Enters  as  Sizer  in  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  being  intended 

for  the  church  44 

His  prospects  in  the  church  blighted  by  a  premature  mar- 
riage  45 

Licensed  as  a  public  parish  schoolmaster  ....  45 
Marries  Miss  Hannah  Mac  Lean,  descended  from  the  Mac 

Leans  of  Mull  45 

Feud  between  the  Mac  Leans  and  Mac  Donalds  .  .  45 
Mr.  John  Clarke  embarks  for  America,  with  the  promise  of  a 

professorship  in  one  of  the  new  Universities  there      .  46 


24  CONTENTS. 

Is  prevented  from  sailing  by  his  father      ....  ^6 
Gets  into  difficulties  in  consequence  of  breaking  up  his  es- 
tablishment   47 

Settles  in  an  obscure  village  in  the  county  of  Derry,  called 

Moybeg   47 

Adam,  his  second  son,  born   47 

No  register  of  the  time  of  his  birth  preserved  ...  47 
Tracy  Clarke,  the  eldest  son,  licensed  by  the  Consistorial  Court 

of  Derry,  as  a  parish  schoolmaster      ....  48 

Bound  apprentice  to  a  surgeon  •  .  48 

Goes  to  Dublin,  and  studies  anatomy  under  Dr.  Cleghorne, 

of  Trinity  College   48 

Sails  in  a  slave  ship  to  Guinea  and  the  West  Indies  .       .  48 

His  journal  destroyed  by  the  captain  of  the  ship  .  .  48 
Various  instances  of  cruelty  witnessed  by  him  during  his 

voyage   49 

Is  disgusted  with  the  horrid  nature  of  the  traffic  ;  abandons 

it,  and  establishes  himself  as  a  surgeon,  near  Liverpool,  50 

Adam  Clarke  very  hardy  in  his  infancy   51 

His  uncle,  the  Rev.  J.  Mac  Lean,  remarkable  for  his 

strength   52 

One  of  his  aunts  very  diminutive   52 

The  district  remarkable  for  having  produced  tall  strong  men  52 
Adam  gets  well  through  the  small  pox  by  naturally  adopting  the 

cool  regimen   53 

His  early  religious  impressions  and  conversations  with  a 

school-fellow   54 

Anecdote  of  Dr.  Barnard   55 

Adam  has  a  horror  of  becoming  fat   55 

Has  his  fortune  told  by  a  spae-man   55 

Is  a  very  inapt  scholar   56 

Prediction  of  a  neighbouring  schoolmaster  concerning  him  56 

Unfitness  of  many  public  teachers  for  their  employment  .       .  57 

Adam  abandons  his  Latin  grammar  in  despair  ....  58 
Is  severely  reproved  by  the  master,  and  taunted  by  his 

school-fellows   58 

His  intellect  becomes  suddenly  enlightened,  and  he  advances 

in  his  learning  rapidly   58 

Reflections  upon  this  sudden  revolution       ...  59 

Advice  to  schoolmasters     ........  59 

Adam  never  makes  any  great  progress  in  arithmetic       .      .  60 

Depressed  state  of  the  family   60 

The  prices  of  various  branches  of  education  in  Ireland  at  the 

latter  end  of  the  18th  century   60 

Mr.  John  Clarke  cultivates  his  farm  according  to  the  rules  laid 

down  by  Virgil  in  his  Georgics   61 

Adam  and  his  brother  alternately  work  in  the  farm,  and  instruct 

each  other   61 

Read  the  Eclogues  and  Georgics  of  Virgil  in  the  midst  of 

scenes  similar  to  those  described  in  that  work      .       .  62 
Fragments  of  a  Satire  written  by  Adam  on  one  of  his  school- 
fellows   62 

Scholia  on  ditto   64 

The  love  of  reading  in  Adam  and  his  brother  becomes  intense  64 

They  lay  by  their  half-pence  and  pence  to  buy  books       .  64 


CONTENTS.  25 

A  catalogue  of  their  books   """tfs 

Works  of  imagination  useful  to  young  minds  ....  66 

Adam  reads  the  Pilgrim's  Progress   66 

His  reflections  as  a  child  upon  the  conduct  of  Christian  in 

the  dungeon   66 

More  mature  reflections   G7 

Becomes  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  the  Trojan  hero,  Hec- 
tor, from  hearing  his  father  recite  portions  of  the  Iliad  67 
Is  induced  to  attempt  to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  occult  philo- 
sophy   68 

Forms  an  acquaintance  with  a  company  of  travelling  tinkers, 

who  profess  to  be  adepts  in  magic       ....  68 
Is  deterred  from  pursuing  his  magical  studies,  by  reading 
an  answer  to  a  question  on  that  subject  in  the  11  Athe- 
nian Oracle"   69 

From  the  reports  spread  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his  super- 
natural powers,  marauders  are  deterred  from  robbing 

his  father's  premises   69 

Receives  the  first  taste  for  Oriental  literature  by  reading  the 

Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments   70 

Derives  great  benefit  from  reading  the  adventures  of  Robin- 
son Crusoe  and  iEsop's  Fables   71 

Manner  in  which  the  peasants  of  the  North  of  Ireland  spend 

their  winters'  evenings   71 

Strong  impression  made  upon  the  memory  of  the  hearer  by  the 

relation  of  the  Gaelic  stories   71 

Baptism  of  Fion  ma  cool,  or  Finga),  by  St.  Patrick  ...  72 

Manners  of  the  Irish  peasantry   72 

Adam's  Mother,  a  Presbyterian  of  the  old  puritanic  school     .  73 

Her  method  of  reproving  her  children  ....  73 
An  instance  of  the  effect  of  her  reproofs  upon  her  son 

Adam   73 

Her  creed  leads  her  to  represent  the  Almighty  rather  as  a 

God  of  justice  than  a  God  of  mercy    ....  74 

She  impresses  on  her  family  a  great  reverence  for  the  Bible  74 

Evening  prayer  taught  by  her  to  her  children     ...  75 

Morning  prayer  and  Doxology   75 

Her  manner  of  spending  the  Sabboth  with  her  family       .  75 

Religious  education  of  the  family   76 

Mode  of  practising  sacred  music  in  the  North  of  Ireland  .       .  76 
Various  instances  from  sacred  and  profane  history  of  the 

antiquity  of  this  mode  of  singing       ....  76 

Not  in  use  among  the  Irish  Roman  Catholics     ...  78 

An  account  of  the  Caoinian  or  Irish  howl       ....  78 

A.  C.  learns  dancing   79 

Its  evil  effects  upon  him   79 

His  protest  against  this  branch  of  education      ...  80 
Various  projects  for  A.  C.'s  settlement  in  life    .       .       .  .80 
Has  a  very  narrow  escape  for  his  life  in  consequence  of  a 

fall  from  his  horse   81 

A.  C.  has  another  narrow  escape  from  death  by  drowning       .  81 

Conversation  with  Dr.  Letsom  on  the  subject     ...  82 

Sensations  while  under  water,  and  on  coming  to  life  .  82 

A  remarkable  anecdote  of  an  attempted  robbery  and  murder     .  83 

Unfortunate  accident  hv  an  incautious  use  of  fire-arms     .       .  86 
3 


Remarkable  events  attending  the  deaths  of  two  brothers  .  86 
General  belief  in  fairies  in  that  part  of  Ireland      ...  87 

BOOK  II. 

Summary  of  religion  aH 

A.  C.'s  first  religious  instructors  88 

He  hears  for  the  first  time  of  the  Methodists,  through  the 

medium  of  a  newspaper  89 

Is  induced  to  go  to  hear  them  by  the  prospect  of  deri- 
ving amusement   89 

Is  struck  by  an  observation  of  the  preacher        .       .  90 
Is  induced  to  go  to  hear  him  again      ....  90 
Adam's  parents  approve  of  the  Methodist  doctrines         .       .  91 
The  preachers  are  invited  to,  and  entertained  in,  their  house  91 
A.  C.  begins  to  feel  an  increasing  attachment  to  religion         .  91 

True  religion  makes  no  man  slothful  92 

A.  C.  is  stirred  up  to  greater  diligence  in  prayer,  by  a  conversa- 
tion with  Mr.  Barber         ......  92 

He  is  dispirited  by  opinions  of  religious  friends        .      .  92 
Determines  to  search  the  Scriptures  for  himself         .       .  93 
He  forms  the  Articles  of  his  Creed  from  his  own  study  of 
the  Sacred  Writings,  without  referring  to  any  human 
creed  or  confession  of  faith 
A.  C.  is  taken  by  his  mother  to  a  class-meeting 

Is  taken  notice  of  and  encouraged  by  the  leader 
His  mind  becomes  filled  with  doubts 

An  anecdote  of  the  Caliph  Aalee  95 

A.  C.  is  filled  with  doubts  concerning  the  Atonement       .      .  95 
This  proceeds  so  far  that  he  conceives  himself  guilty  of 

idolatry  by  praying  in  the  name  of  Christ  .       .  96 

Is  delivered  from  this  state  of  mind  by  earnest  prayer       .  96 
From  his  own  feelings  on  this  subject,  he  always  thought  it 
his  duty  to  caution  others  against  the  Arian  and  Soci- 

nian  errors   96 

A.  C,  from  his  own  experience  on  this  occasion,  forms  his 
opinion  of  the  spurious  doctrine  of  the  Eternal  Son- 
ship  of  Christ  96 

Arguments  against  this  doctrine         ...  97 
Danger  of  young  converts  mingling  with  persons  who  are  fond 

of  doubtful  disputations  97 

A.  C.'s  mental  sufferings  from  the  temporary  perversion  of  bis 

creed  97 

He  has  a  strong  desire  to  receive  the  Sacrament  for  the  first 

time  98 

His  preparations  for  that  solemn  ordinance  .  .  99 
The  clergyman  much  affected  while  giving  him  the  bread  99 
A.  C.'s  feelings  during  the  ordinance,  and  his  opinion  of  the 

nature  of  this  Sacrament   100 

Advice  to  communicants   100 

A.  C.  undergoes  great  spiritual  anguish  101 

Reflections  on  this  101 

Finds  peace  with  God  102 

Converses  with  Mr.  Barber  on  the  subject  ....  102 


C0NTENT9.  ZJ 

rap 

Receives  the  witness  of  the  Spirit,  and  a  clear  evidence  of 

his  acceptance  with  God   103 

Extract  of  a  Sermon  preached  by  him,  on  this  subject, 

seven  years  after,  at  Plymouth           ....  104 

Reflections  on  the  nature  and  uses  of  religion  ....  106 
A.  C.  finds  his  mind  enlightened  and  more  adapted  to  receive 

instruction  through  his  increase  in  spiritual  knowledge  106 
Acquires  a  taste  for  Natural  Philosophy,  by  theperusal  of 
"  Derham's  Astro-theology,"  and  "  Ray's  Wisdom  of 

God  in  the  Creation"    107 

The  Dictionaries  of  John  Kefsey  and  Benjamin  Martin  of 

great  use  to  him    108 

Two  of  his  sisters  join  the  Methodists      ....  109 
He  is  the  means  of  the  conversion  of  one  of  his  school- 
fellows   109 

Account  of  Andrew  Coleman    109 

His  wonderful  progress  in  learning   110 

Straitened  circumstances   110 

An  intimate  friendship  formed  between  him  and  A.  C.       .  110 

He  is  employed  as  a  class-leader   Ill 

Sent  out  as  a  travelling  preacher   Ill 

Dies  at  the  age  of  eighteen  of  a  consumption    .       .       .  Ill 

A.  C.'s  reflections  on  his  death   Ill 

Instances  of  Andrew  Coleman's  extraordinary  memory    .  .112 

Adam  Clarke  begins  to  exhort  in  the  neighbouring  villages      .  112 

His  method  of  procedure  in  such  cases      ....  113 

Sometimes  preaches  in  nine  or  ten  villages  in  one  day  .  113 
Turns  his  attention  to  mathematics           .       .      .  .113 

His  profits  in  Gnomonics    113 

Makes  considerable  exertions  to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the 

French  language   114 

Occasionally  amuses  himself  with  attempts  at  poetry  .  114 
A.  C.  is  placed  on  trial,  prior  to  being  apprenticed  with  Mr. 

Francis  Bennet,  a  linen  merchant  .  .  .  .114 
All  his  religious  friends  averse  to  this  arrangement  .  .114 
Mr.  John  Bredin  writes  to  Mr.  Wesley  concerning  him  .  115 
Mr.  Wesley  offers  to  take  him  into  Kmgswood  School  .  115 
His  parents  receive  the  proposal  with  indignation  .  .  115 
Mr.  Bennet  offers  to  set  him  up  in  business  as  an  Irish  pro- 
vision merchant    115 

He  meets  with  many  judicious  and  religious  friends  at 

Coleraine   116 

He  derives  much  spiritual  benefit  from  the  perusal  of  "  Bax- 
ter's Saints'  Everlasting  Rest,"  and  the  "  Journal  of 

David  Brainard"   116 

He  attracts  the  notice  of  Mr.  Rutherford  and  other  preachers  116 
He  is  unpleasantly  situated  in  Mr.  Bennet's  family,  owing 

to  a  termagant  of  a  servant   117 

And  a  sick  relative   118 

His  method  of  reproving  sin   118 

An  extract  from  his  Journal   119 

Much  temptation,  as  well  as  prayer  and  reading,  necessary  to 

form  a  Christian  minister   119 

A.  C.  becomes  so  exceedingly  cautious  in  his  conversation,  that 


28  CONTENTS. 


at  last  he  doubts  the  most  evident  facts,  and  hesitates  at 

trusting  the  evidence  of  his  senses      ....  120 
He  brings  himself  down  to  the  edge  of  the  grave  by  fast- 
ing and  self-denial   120 

His  memory  becomes  affected   120 

He  is  filled  with  distressing  doubts   121 

His  opinion  that  he  was  permitted  to  undergo  all  these 
trials  in  order  to  qualify  trim  for  the  ministerial 

office   121 

In  after-life  no  case  of  conscience  could  come  before 
him  in  which  he  was%iot  qualified  to  judge  from 

his  own  experience  of  the  state     ....  121 

His  deliverance  from  this  state  of  misery  .       .       .  122 

The  means  he  used  to  strengthen  his  memory    .       .       .  122 

His  imperfect  memory  of  use  to  him  as  a  preacher  .  .  123 
He  is  obliged  in  the  pulpit  to  trust  to  judgment  rather  than 

recollection   123 

This  renders  his  mode  of  preaching  new  and  effective  124 

BOOK  III. 

Advice  to  young  ministers   125 

Different  ranks  in  the  primitive  church   125 

A.  C.'s  great  reluctance  to  commence  regular  preacher      .       .  125 

His  first  sermon   .       .  126 

He  is  encouraged  by  the  approbation  of  his  congregations  126 

Prepares  to  leave  Ireland    127 

Gets  a  certificate  from  the  Rector  of  the  parish  .       .  127 

Is  ordered  over  to  Kingswood  School        ....  127 

Strong  objections  of  his  parents  to  this  measure        .  127 
His  Mother  becomes  persuaded  that  God  has  called  her  son 
to  the  Ministry,  and  brings  over  his  Father  to  consent 

to  the  voyage  to  England    128 

A.  C.  embarks  at  Londonderry  and  sails  for  Liverpool     .       .  128 

Occurrences  during  the  voyage    129 

The  ship  is  visited  by  a  press-gang  ....  130 

A.  C.'s  reflections  upon  this  unconstitutional  method  of 

manning  the  Royal  Navy   130 

A.  C.  is  taken  by  the  captain  of  the  packet  to  his  house  130 

His  conversation  there  with  a  Scotch  lady         .  .  131 

And  a  Roman  Catholic   131 

He  takes  his  place  by  the  Fly  for  Birmingham  132 

Company  on  the  road    133 

Danger  of  quoting  Heathen  authors  as  evidences  in 

favour  of  Christianity    134 

Equal  danger  in  quoting  the  Fathers  in  proof  of  the 

doctrines  of  the  Gospel   134 

Is  kindly  received  at  Birmingham   134 

Has  his  expectations  of  Kingswood  School  considerably 

lessened   135 

His  arrival  at  Bristol   136 

Occurrences  at  the  inn  in  Bristol   136 

Sets  off  for  Kingswood  with  three  half-pence  in  his  pocket  136 

His  Unfeeling  reception  there   136 


CONTENTS.  29 

His  usage  there    K?» 

Instances  of  the  tyranny  of  the  mistress     .       .       .  139 

A.  C.'s  first  introduction  to  Mr.  Rankin   139 

Character  of  Mr.  Rankin   140 

A.  C.'s  intercourse  with  him  in  after  life    ....  140 

A  description  of  Kingswood  School  in  the  year  1782      .       .  140 

Domestic  establishment  there   141 

Characters  of  the  teachers         ......  141 

Mr.  Wesley's  declared  opinion  of  this  School  in  the  year 

1783    141 

Reasons  of  the  disorganization  of  the  School     .      .  142 

The  School  much  improved  of  late  years    .       .      .  142 

A.  C.  finds  a  half-guinea  while  digging  in  the  garden       .       .  143 

He  is  thus  enabled  to  purchase  a  Hebrew  grammar    .       .  144 
This  apparently  trifling  occurrence  lays  the  foundation'of 
all  his  knowledge  of  the  Sacred  Writings  in  the  Old 

Testament   144 

His  first  introduction  to  Mr.  Wesley  ....  144 
A.  C.  is  ordained  by  Mr.  Wesley,  and  sent  to  Bradford,  in 

Wiltshire   144 

Hears  Mr.  Wesley  preach   144 

Meets  with  Mr.  Charles  Wesley   145 

The  reason  why  A.  C.'s  name  does  not  appear  in  the  Minutes 
of  the  Methodist  Conference  the  first  year  of  his  be- 
coming a  travelling  preacher   145 

A.  C.'s  situation  becomes  much  improved  by  the  arrival  of  Mr. 

Wesley   145 

Farther  instances  of  tyranny  in  the  mistress  of  Kingswood 

School                                                ...  146 

A.  C.  is  confirmed  by  the  bishop  of  Bristol       .            .      .  146 

His  feelings  on  leaving  Kingswood  School  .  .  147 
He  is  very  young  when  sent  out  to  preach,  and  from  his 

youthful  appearance  is  generally  called  the  little  boy    .  147 

His  qualifications  as  a  preacher         .....  147 

His  Creed    148 

Reflections  on  the  Articles  of  his  Creed  .  .  .  152 
Reflections  on  the  tenth  Article,  relative  to  the  Eternal 

Sonship   152 

BOOK  IV. 

Extent  of  the  Bradford  (Wilts)  Circuit  in  1782       .      .  .153 

Great  extent  of  circuit  favourable  to  a  young  preacher  .  .  153 
A.  C.  is  fearful  that  his  youth  may  hinder  his  usefulness  as  a 

preacher   153 

Is  pleasingly  disappointed  in  this  respect    ....  153 

An  anecdote  of  his  preaching  at  Road       ....  154 

God  blesses  his  ministry  in  all  parts  of  the  circuit     .       .  155 

A.  C.  commences  the  study  of  the  Hebrew  language       .       .  156 

A  critique  upon  Bayley's  Hebrew  grammar     ....  156 

A.  C.'s  method  of  studying   156 

Reads  through  four  volumes  of  Mr.  Wesley's  History  of 
the  Church,  while  riding  on  horseback  to  attend  his 

various  appointments   156 

3* 


90 


CONTENTS. 


Has  his  studies  put  a  stop  to  for  a  time  by  the  injudicious 

interference  of  a  brother  preacher       ....  157 

Makes  a  vow  to  jive  up  all  learning    .       .  .      .  157 

Is  encourage/I  in  this  resolution  by  the  preacher  before 

alluded  to   158 

The  sinful  nature  of  such  a  vow   15S 

The  manner  in  which  Mr.  C.  was  led  to  view  it  in  its  pro- 
per light   158 

A  quotation  from  a  Sermon  of  Bridaine   158 

Mr.  Wesley  encourages  Mr.  C.  to  resume  his  studies  .  .  159 
A.  C.  finds  that,  after  four  years'  loss  of  time,  it  is  no  easy  thing 

to  resume  his  studies  with  profit  to  himself         .       .  160 
The  assertion,  that  the  Methodists  as  a  body  undervalue  learn- 
ing, not  a  correct  one   160 

Mr.  C.  gives  up  the  use  of  tea  and  coffee  in  consequence  of  read- 
ing a  pamphlet  written  on  the  subject  by  Mr.  "Wesley  161 
Saves  several  years  of  time,  during  his  life,  by  thus  giving 

up  tea-parties  ;  161 

He  is  summoned  to  the  Bristol  Conference  in  1783    .       .  161 

Extracts  from  his  Journal   161 

He  is  admitted  into  Full  Connexion,  after  travelling  only 

eleven  months   16" 

His  reflections  on  this  occasion   16* 

His  whimsical  dilemma  upon  his  examination    .       .  163 

He  is  appointed  to  the  Norwich  Circuit,  August,  1783  163 

His  ministerial  exertions  during  the  preceding  ten  months  163 

Mr.  C.'s  personal  experience  during  the  same  period        .       j  163 

His  reasons  for  not  wishing  to  preserve  his  Journal  .  .  164 
Extent  of  the  Norwich  Circuit  in  the  year  1783        .       .  .164 

The  names  and  characters  of  the  preachers  in  that  Circuit  165 

The  Circuit  very  low  as  regarded  numbers  and  religion     .  165 

The  manner  of  providing  for  the  preachers  in  Norwich    .      .  166 

Ludicrous  anecdote   166 

Anecdote  of  a  clergyman   16' 

Mr.  C.'s  mechanical  contrivances   167 

He  literally  obeys  the  advice  given  to  preachers  when  ad- 
mitted into  the  Methodist  Connexion    .       .       .  .16 
He  undergoes  great  hardships  in  his  Circuit  during  the 

winter  of  1783 — 4    168 

His  expedients  to  preserve  himself  from  the  cold       .       .  168 

Luxuries  of  primitive  Methodism   168 

Extracts  from  Mr.  C.'s  Journal   170 

Mr.  C.  hears  Mr.  Wesley  preach  eight  sermons,  of  which  he 

preserves  the  texts   171 

The  people  of  Norfolk  much  addicted  to  Sabbath-breaking      .  171 

An  anecdote  of  a  Norfolk  miller       .  ...  172 

Ditto     of  Mr.  John  Hampson  and  Mr.  Wesley       .       .  17° 

Ditto     of  Mr.  George  Holder   173 

An  extract  from  Mr.  C.'s  Journal  concerning  the  Swedenborgian 

doctrine  of  "  no  persons"  in  the  Trinity     .      .  .17' 

A  sabbath-breaker  shot   175 

More  extracts  from  the  Journal   175 

Mr.  C.'s  prejudice  against  female  preachers      ....  176 

He  hears  Miss  Sewell  preach     .  ...  176 


CONTENTS.  H 

His  sentiments  in  some  measure  altered     ....  1^6 

Reflections  in  his  Journal  on  female  preaching  .      .       .  176 

He  is  appointed  to  the  St.  Austell  Circuit  ....  177 
Has  a  guinea,  sent  him  to  defray  his  travelling  expenses 

during  a  journey  of  400  miles   178 

His  journey  from  Norfolk  to  Cornwall      ....  178 

Extent  of  the  St.  Austell  circuit  in  the  year  1784      .      .      .  179 

Great  revival  of  religion  there   179 

Several  persons,  distinguished  for  their  abilities,  join  the 

Society   179 

Character  of  Mr.  Samuel  Drew   179 

Mr.  C.  goes  to  preach  at  a  place  called  Trego    .  179 

Is  not  permitted  to  preach,  and  is  turned  out  at  night  .       .  180 

His  behaviour  on  this  occasion   181 

He  nearly  loses  his  life  by  the  falling  of  his  horse  .  .  182 
Does  not  recover  from  the  ill  effects  of  his  fall  for  more  than 

three  years   182 

Extracts  from  Mr.  C.'s  Journal   182 

Description  of  a  remarkable  meteor   183 

State  of  religion  in  the  St.  Austell  circuit         ....  183 

Mr.  C.  injures  his  health  by  his  exertions         ....  183 
He  preaches  5G8  sermons,  besides  giving  numerous  exhor- 
tations, and  travelling  some  nundreds  of  miles,  in 

eleven  months      .    184 

He  turns  his  attention  to  chemistry   184 

He  works  at  the.  furnace  himself  in  order  to  understand  the 

various  .Scriptural  allusions  to  the  refining  of  silver    .  184 
Reads  the  alcheniistic  writers,  and  goes  through  several  of 

the  initiatory  operations   184 

Forms  an  intimate  friendship  with  Mr.  Richard  Mabyn,  of 

Camelford"   ...  184 

He  is  appointed  to  the  Plymouth  Dock  circuit    .      .       .  185 
Extent  of  the  circuit  in  1785      ...                   .  185 
The  Society  is  doubled  during  the  year  of  Mr.  C.'s  mi- 
nistry   186 

He  obtains  the  loan  of  Chambers's  Encyclopaedia     .       .  186 

His  high  opinion  of  that  work   186 

Suggestions  for  the  improvement  of  it       .       .       .       .  187 

Purchases  Leigh's  Critica  Sacra   187 

Has  a  copy  of  Dr.  Kennicott's  Hebrew  Bible  lent  him  by 
Miss  Kennicott ;  this  work  first  directs  his  attention  to 
Biblical  Criticism        .      .      .   -   .      .      .       .  187 
His  unpleasant  situation  with  a  choir  of  singers       .       .  188 
His  opinion  of  choirs  of  singers  as  forming  part  of  reli- 
gious worship   188 

An  account  of  Mr.  Mason   189 

A  remarkable  anecdote,  illustrating  the  effect  of  quack  medi- 
cines   191 

Dangerous  nature  of  these  nostrums   192 

Mr.  C.'s  appointment  to  the  Normnn  Isles        ....  192 

He  prepares  to  go  to  Jersey   192 

His  first  acquaintance  with  the  family  of  Cooke  .  .  193 
Becomes  attached  to  Miss  Mary  Coolce,  afterwards  Mrs. 

Clarke  .       .   193 


32  CONTENTS. 

Page 

Reflections,  extracted  from  his  Journal,  chiefly  written  during 

visits  to  Winchester  Cathedral  193 

On  Earthly  Glory  194 

Remarkable  Epitaph  on  two  brothers  of  the  name  of  Clerk  194 
Reasons  for  the  slow  progress  of  Revelation     .       .       .  195 

On  Conscience  196 

Are  Natural  Evils  the  effect  of  Inevitable  Necessity  .  .  199 
Mr.  C.'s  opinion  of  the  common  practice  of  publishing  after 

their  death,  Letters  written  by  eminent  men       .       .  200 
Injury  done  to  the  memory  of  Pope  and  Swift  by  this 

practice  200 

Injury  done  to  the  character  of  the  late  Mr.  Fletcher,  of 

Madeley,  by  ill  judging  friends  200 

A  description  of  the  Norman  Isles  201 

Mr.  C.  commences  preaching  there  201 

He  begins  de  novo  with  Greek  and  Latin    .      .       .  201 

Takes  up  the  Septuagint  201 

His  opinion  of  this  Version  ....  202 
Notes  the  most  important  differences  between  this 

Version  and  the  Hebrew  Text      .       .       .  202 
Derives  much  assistance  from  the  Public  Library  at 

St.  Hellier's  202 

Here  he  first  meets  with  a  copy  of  the  Polyglott  203 
Dean  Prideaux's  Connexions  gives  him  an  accurate 
,             view  of  the  Targums  of  Onkelos  and  Jona- 
than Ben  Uzziel  203 

Reads  Walton's  Intro Audio  ad  Linguas  Orientales, 

and  the  Schola  Syriaca  of  Professor  Leusden  203 
Devotes  all  his  leisure  time  to  the  reading  and  collating 
the  original  Texts  in  the  Polyglott,  particu- 
larly the  Hebrew,  Samaritan,  Chaldee,  Sy- 
riac,  Vulgate,  and  Septuagint       .       .       .  203 

Obtains  a  Polyglott  of  his  own  204 

His  reflections  on  this  occasion     ....  204 
Mr.  Wesley,  accompanied  by  Dr.  Coke  and  Mr.  Bradford,  visits 

the  Norman  Isles  204 

They  leave  the  Islands  for  Penzance      ....  205 
Occurrences  on  the  voyage         .....  205 

Mr.  C.'s  opinion  of  Mr.  Wesley  206 

Character  of  Miss  Cooke,  afterwards  Mrs.  Clarke    .       .       .  206 
The  connexion  between  her  and  Mr.  C.  opposed  by  her 

friends  207 

Mr.  Wesley  is  induced,  by  false  representations,  to  oppose 

their  marriage      .  207 

Afterwards,  on  finding  out  his  error,  becomes  a  me- 
diator  207 

Mr.  C.  and  Miss  Cooke  are  married,  April  17, 1788        .       .  207 

The  union  a  happy  one  207 

Other  marriages  in  that  family  207 

Mr.  C.  is  attacked  by  a  mob,  while  preaching  at  La  Valle  in 

Guernsey   .      .  .208 

He  has  another  narrow  escape  for  his  life  from  a  mob  at 

St.  Aubin's,  in  the  Island  of  Jersey       .       .  .208 
The  mob  nearly  destroy  the  preaching-house      .       .  209 


CONTENTS.  33 

Dr.  C.'s  account  of  this  transaction,  in  his  Comment  on 

Luke  iv.  20  (note)  209 

Mr.  C.  goes,  the  following  Sabbath,  to  the  same  place  to  preach  '210 

la  again  attacked  by  the  mob   210 

His  address  to  them    .      .      .       .      .       .       .      .  210 

Is  taken  under  their  protection,  and  never  again  molested  by 

them   211 

The  mob  being  ashamed  of  their  conduct,  and  having  given 

up  persecution,  a  magistrate  opposes  him     .       .  .211 

He  nearly  loses  his  life  from  the  effects  of  intense  cold      .  212 

Is  preserved  by  the  presence  of  mind  of  his  companion  212 
A  similar  instance  occurred  to  Dr.  Solander  and  Sir 

Joseph  Banks   212 

Mr.  C.  has,  in  after  years,  the  opportunity  of  serving 

his  preserver    213 

M\:  C.'s  first  visit  to  the  Isle  of  Alderney        ....  213 

Threatened  opposition  of  the  Governor      ....  214 

Lands  in  the  Island,  and  preaches  at  a  poor  cottage  .  .  215 
Is,  after  a  short  interval,  called  upon  to  preach  again  before 

one  of  the  justices   215 

Preaches  on  the  following  Sabbath  at  the  English  church  .  216 
Meets  with  no  opposition  from  the  authorities,  and  is  well 

received  of  all   210 

Is  obliged  to  be  his  own  cook  during  his  stay  in  the  island  217 
Proofs  of  the  fertility  of  the  Norman  Isles        .       .       .  .218 

Mr.  C.'s  removal  to  the  Bristol  circuit,  in  1789  ....  218 

His  health  much  injured  by  his  continual  exertions          .  218 

Mr.  Wesley's  last  Conference,  at  Bristol,  in  1790    .       .       .  219 
Rule  made  there  that  no  preacher  should  preach  three  times 

during  the  same  day   219 

Difference  between  preaching  a  sermon  and  uttering 

one   219 

Mr.  C.  appointed  to  the  Dublin  circuit,  1790     .       .       .  .220 
Is  laid  up  with  a  rheumatic  affection,  in  consequence  of  re- 
siding in  a  newly  finished  damp  house'      .       .       .  220 
Disputes  in  the  Dublin  Circuit  concerning  the  introduction  of  the 

Liturgy  into  the  Methodists' Chapel    ....  221 
Mr.  C.  gives  his  voice  against  the  use  of  the  Liturgy  in  the  Me- 
thodists'Chapel    221 

His  reasons  for  opposing  the  introduction  of  the  Liturgy  .  221 

Sees  his  mistake  in  after  life   222 

Death  of  Mr.  Wesley   222 

A  letter  from  Dr.  Barnard,  Bishop  of  Killaloe,  to  Mr.  Clarke 

(note)  .222 

Mr.  C.  appointed  one  of  his  six  trustees  by  Mr.  Wesley's  will  222 
Enters  himself  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin        .       .  .223 
Studies  under  Drs.  Dickinson,  Cleghorn,  and  R.  Pereival  223 
Establishes  the  Strangers'  Friend  Society,  in  Dublin,  Man- 
chester, and  London     .......  223 

He  removes  to  Manchester,  1791    223 

Obliged  to  have  recourse  to  the  Buxton  waters  for  the  re- 
covery of  his  health   224 

Commencement  of  the  French  Revolution               .              .  224 

Mr.  C.'s  colleagues  take  opposite  sides  on  this  question      .  224 


34  CONTENTS. 

Ministers  of  the  Gospel  have  nothing  to  do  with  politics  .       .  22*5 

Conclusion  of  Dr.  Clarke's  own  Narrative      .  225 

APPENDIX. 

Mr.  Clarke  becomes  acquainted  with  a  Turkish  officer  of  Ja- 
nissaries   229 

Ibrahim  Ben  Ali  is  baptized      .            ....  230 

His  birth  and  first  impressions  relative  to  Christianity  230 

Marries  his  first  wife  at  the  age  of  thirteen        .  230 

Marries  his  second  and  third  wives  ....  231 
He  is  taken  up,  on  suspicion,  for  the  murder  of  two  of 

his  comrades   231 

The  real  murderers  discovered      .      .            .  232 

He  is  taken  prisoner  in  Wallachia,  by  the  Russians  .  233 

Accused  at  Constantinople  of  being  a  Christian  .  .  233 
His  parents,  wives,  and  children,  butchered  at  Ismail, 

by  the  Russians   233 

.His  death   234 

LETTERS,  from  Mr.  Clarke  to  Miss  Mary  Cooke,  afterwards 

Mrs.  Clarke   235 


THE  LIFE 

OF 

ADAM  CLARKE,  LL.D., 

ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC. 


THE  LIFE 

OP 


ADAM  CLARKE,  LL,D,, 

ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC, 


BOOK  If 

Man  may  be  considered  as  having  a  twofold  origin— natural, 
which  is  common  and  the  same  to  all — patronymic,  which 
belongs  to  the  various  families  of  which  the  whole  human  race 
is  composed.  This  is  no  arbitrary  distinction;  it  has  existed 
from  the  commencement  of  the  world;  for  although  God  has 
made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations  of  men  to  dicell  on  the  face 
of  the  whole  earth,  so  that  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  world  have 
sprung  horn  one  original  pair;  yet,  this  family  became  speedily 
divided  into  branches,  less  or  more  famous  or  infamous,  as  the 
progenitor  was  good  or  bad :  or,  in  other  words,  pious,  wise, 
and  useful ;  or,  profligate,  oppressive,  and  cruel. 

This  distinction  existed  even  in  the  family  of  Adam,  as  we 
may  see  in  the  lives  of  Cain,  and  Seth :  the  posterity  of  the 
former  being  uniformly  marked  as  wicked  and  cruel,  and  even 
apostates  from  the  true  God  ;  while  the  posterity  of  the  latter 
were  equally  remarkable  for  all  the  social  and  moral  virtues, 
and  were  the  preservers,  as  well  as  the  patterns,  of  pure  and 
undefiled  religion. 

This  patronymic  distinction  is  not  less  evident  in  the  great 
Abrahamic  family, — in  the  descendants  of  Ishmael  and  Isaac  ; 
from  the  former  of  whom  sprang  the  various  tribes  of  Idumeans 
and  Arabs,  whose  history  occupies  so  large  a  part  of  the  annals 
of  the  human  race;  and  from  the  latter,  all  the  Jewish  tribes, 
and  that  singular  family  continued,  by  a  chain  of  the  most  re- 
markable and  miraculous  providences,  from  which  came  Jesus 
;he  Messiah,  the  Almighty  Saviour  of  the  human  race. 

To  trace  this  any  farther  would  be  foreign  to  my  design  ;  as 


38 


THE  LIFE  OF  ADAM  CLARKE. 


it  has  only  been  introduced  as  an  apology  for  the  slight  notice 
that  shall  be  taken  of  the  family  from  which  the  subject  of 
the  present  Memoir  has  derived  his  origin. 


Whether  the  family  of  the  Clarkes  were  of  Norman  extrac- 
tion cannot  be  easily  ascertained.  If  it  even  were  so,  it  is 
pretty  evident  that  it  did  not  come  in  with  William  the  Con- 
queror ;  as  no  such  name  exists  in  any  copy  of  the  Boll  of 
Battle  Abbey,  (several  of  which  have  been  searched  for  this 
purpose,)  on  which  roll  was  entered  all  the  names  of  the  nobi- 
lity and  distinguished  families  that  accompanied  William  in 
his  first  expedition ;  or  who  afterwards  came  over  and  settled 
in  England. 

It  is  well  known  that  clericus  was  originally  the  name  of  an 
office,  and  signified  the  clerk  or  learned  man,  who  in  primitive 
times,  was  the  only  person  in  his  district  who  could  write 
and  redd,  or  had  taken  pains  to  cultivate  his  mind  in  such 
literature  as  the  times  afforded,  and;  from  his  knowledge  and 
skill,  could  be  useful  to  his  fellow  citizens ;  and  who,  in  con- 
sequence, did  not  fail  to  accumulate  respectable  property, 
which  was  maintained  and  increased  in  the  family ;  one  of 
the  descendants,  generally  the  eldest  son,  being  brought  up 
to  literature,  and  thus  succeeding  to  the  office  of  his  father, 
and  the  emolument  of  that  office.  This  title,  in  process  of 
time,  became  the  surname  of  the  person  who  bore  the  office ; 
and  clericus,  le  clerc,  the  clerk,  and  afterwards  Clarke,  became 
the  cognomen,  or  surname,  by  which  all  the  descendants  of 
the  family  were  distinguished.  As  those  persons  who  were 
designed  for  ecclesiastical  functions  generally  got  an  educa- 
tion superior  to  the  rest  of  the  community,  hence  they  were 
termed  clerici,  clerks ;  and  this  is  the  legal  title  by  which 
every  clergyman  is  distinguished  to  the  present  day. 

It  has  been  intimated  that  the  term  clericus,  the  clerk,  was 
originally  given  to  the  person  who  was  the  only  one  in  his 


insinuation  in  the  nineteenth  century,  when  every  child 
among  the  millions  in  England  can  read  ;  and  almost  eveTy 
grown  up  person  can  write.  But  it  was  not  so  in  ancient 
times :  can  the  reader  believe  that  that  there  was  a  period 
when  some  of  our  own  British  kings  could  not  write  their 
own  name  !  It  is  nevertheless  a  fact.  About  A.  D.  700, 
Withred  was  king  of  Kent.  He  issued  an  ordinance,  or 
Charter  of  Liberties,  freeing  all  the  churches  under  his 
dominion  from  tribute  and  taxation.  This  charter  is  found  in 
the  Archives  of  the  Cathedral  of  Canterbury,  and  is  published 
by  Wilkins  in  his  Concilia,  vol.  i.  p.  63,  and  concludes  in  this 
remarkable  manner: — 


This  may  seem  a  strange 


THE  LIFE  OF  ADAM  CLARKE. 


39 


"  Actum  die  sexto  April  is,  anno  regni  nostri  octavo:  In- 
dictione  duodecimo,  in  loco  qui  appellator  Cilling. 

"  Ego  Wythredus,  rex  Cantia>,  ha-c  omnia  supra  scripta  et 
confirmavi,  atque  a  me  diclata  ;  propria  maim  signum  sanc- 
tce  crucis,  pro  ignorantia  literarum  express! 

"  Done  the  sixth  day  of  April,  [A.  D.  700,]  in  the  eighth 
year  of  our  reign  :  Induction  xii.,  in  the  place  called  Killing. 

"I  Withred,  king  of  Kent,  have  confirmed  the  above  liber- 
ties, dictated  by  myself;  and  because  I  am  unlearned,  [i.  e. 
cannot  write,]  I  have,  with  my  own  hand,  signed  this  with 
the  sign  of  the  holy  cross  "f"." 

This  was  not  only  a  common  case  in  those  times,  but  in 
times  later  by  some  centuries.  Many  of  the  ancient  charters 
are  signed  with  crosses,  and  this  was  often  because  those  who 
subscribed  could  not  write.  It  is  doubtful  whether  William 
the  Conqueror,  or  any  of  his  sons,  except  Henry,  could  write. 
The  foundation  charter  of  Battle  Abbey  has  thirteen  signa- 
tures to  it :  they  are  all  crosses,  each  different,  and  all  the 
names  are  written  by  the  same  scribe,  but  each  cross  is  made 
by  the  person  to  whose  name  it  is  affixed :  through  a  kind  of 
complaisance,  those  who  cculd  write  signed  with  a  cross,  to 
keep  the  king  and  nobles  in  countenance.  Of  this  ignorance 
it  would  be  easy  to  multiply  instances. 

In  an  ancient  record,  called  the  Boldon  Boole,  which  con- 
tains a  census  and  survey  of  the  whole  bishoprick  and  pala- 
tinate of  Durham,  after  the  manner  of  Domesday  Book,  made 
by  Bishop  Hugh  de  Puteaco,  or  Piulsey,  A.  D.  1183,  we 
find  many  proofs  of  men  being  distinguished  by  their  offices, 
trades,  &c,  and  the  following  instance  is  remarkable :  among 
many  other  persons  who  held  lands  in  the  township  of  Wol- 
syngam  in  that  county,  and  who  performed  certain  services 
to  the  lord  for  the  lands  they  held,  according  to  the  ancient 
feudal  system ;  we  find  the  following  entry  : — 

Adamus  Clericus,  tenet  triginta  acras,  et  reddit  unam 
marcam.  "  Adam  the  Clerk,  (or  Adam  Clarke,)  holds  thirty 
acres  of  land,  for  which  he  pays  annually  one  mark." 

Others  plough  and  harrow,  that  is,  employ  so  many  days  in 
ploughing  and  harrowing  the  bishop's  lands,  in  the  way  of  boon 
or  annual  rent. 

That  the  term  is  used  as  the  name  of  an  office  here,  is  suffi- 
ciently evident  from  the  names  of  office  frequently  occurring 
joined  to  the  Christian  names,  to  distinguish  the  persons  who 
held  those  offices :  e.  g. : — 

Alanus  Fcllo,  tenet  unum  toftum  et  croftum  pro  duobus 
solidis,  et  facit  quatuor  porcationes  autumpno.  "  Allen  the 
Fuller,  holds  one  toft  and  one  croft,  for  two  shillings,  and 
makes  four  porcations  in  autumn." 

.  Aldredus  Fader,  xii.  acr.  et  red.  Hi.  sol.  "Aldred  the 
Smith,  holds  twelve  acres,  for  which  he  pays  three  shillings." 


THE  LIFE  Or  ADAM  CLARKL. 


Arnaldus  Pistor,  habet  Cornesheved  in  excamb.  de  Fril- 
lesden,  et  red.  xxiiii.  sol.  "  Arnold  the  Baker,  has  Corn- 
sheved  in  exchange  for  Frillesden,  and  renders  twenty-four 
shillings." 

fralterus  Molendinarius,  tenet  it.  bov.  et  red.  x.  sol.  d-e 
jirrrt.  et  ii.  sol.  pro  operal.  suis.  "  Walter  the  Miller,  hold? 
two  bovates  of  land,  for  which  he  pays  ten  shillings,  and  gives 
two  shillings  as  a  compensation  for  services." 

Hugo  Punder,  reddit  pro  unam  acram  xii.  d.  et  unam 
toft.devasto.  "Hugh  the  Pinder,  (the  man  who  keeps  the 
pound  or  pinfold,)  holds  one  acre,  for  which  he  gives  one  shil- 
ling: he  has  also  one  toft  of  common." 

Ferrarius  the  Smith  ;  Carpcntarius  the  Carpenter  ;  Pis^ 
carius  the  Fisher  ;  Firmarius  the  Farmer  ;  Gardinarius  the 
Gardener,  &c.  &c. ;  which  were  all  names  of  office,  became 
at  last  the  surnames  of  whole  fam  ilies,  throughout  all  their 
generations.  See  Domesday  and  Boldon  Books,  passim, 
The  name  of  the  father's  office  might  easily  be  transferred  to 
all  his  children,  though  not  employed  in  the  same  business  $ 
as  Johannes  Jilius  Adami  Clerici,  "  John  the  son  of  Adam  the 
Clerk,"  would  in  a  very  few  generations  be,  "  John  Clarke  the 
son  of  Adam  Clarke,"  &c.  Thus  it  may  be  conceived  all  swr- 
names  originally  rose  which  express  office,  trade,  &c.  as  But- 
ler, Baker,  Chamberlain,  Carpenter,  Carter,  Cook,  Smith, 
Merchant,  Draper,  Roper,  Soaper,  Fisher,  Fowler,  Fosteri 
Slater,  Farmer,  Miller,  Fuller,  Taylor,  Poynder,  &c.  i 
While  others  derived  theirs  from  the  places  where  they  were 
born,  or  the  estate  which  they  held ;  as,  Applelon,  Abingdon^ 
Aubigny,  Castleton,  Cheshire,  Cornish,  &c. 

Family  distinctions  were  probably,  at  first,  fortuitously  ac- 
quired: so,  the  first  Clarke  might  have  been  a  self-taught 
genius  ;  his  love  of  literature  and  the  profit  he  had  acquired  by 
it,  would  naturally  excite  him  to  bring  up  a  child  in  the  same 
way  ;  and  emulation  would  induce  others  of  the  same  name 
to  continue  a  distinction,  by  which  the  family  had  acquired 
both  honour  and  profit.  Hence  we  find  that  this  ancient  family 
has  been  distinguished  for  many  learned  men  ;  and  by  several 
who  have  acquired  no  ordinary  fame  in  all  the  walks  of  the 
republic  of  literature.  While  on  this  subject  the  reader's  in- 
dulgence is  requested  a  little  longer. 

The  ancient  history  of  the  Romans,  will  cast  some  light 
oil  this  subject  of  stirnam.es.  The  Roman  names  are  divided 
into  four  kinds.  1.  Those  of  the  Ingenui,  or  free-born.  2. 
Those  of  the  Liberti,  or  freed-men  ;  and  those  of  the  Servi,  or 
slaves.  3.  The  names  of  women.  And,  4.  the  names  of 
adopted  persons. 

The  Ingenui  had  three  names.  1.  The  pr^nomen,  which 
they  assumed  when  they  put  on  the  toga  viritis,  or  manly 
gown:  this  answers  to  our  Christian  name.    These pramo* 


THE  LIFE  OF  ADAM  CLARKE. 


41 


mina  were  usually  signified  by  initial  letters,  as  is  frequently 
the  case  among  us:  thus  A.  signified  Aulus :  C.  Cants;  D. 
Decius:  K.  Ca?so:  L.  Lucius:  M.  Marcius,  and  Marcus: 
N.  Numerius:  P.  Publius:  Q.  Quintus:  T.  7'i7«s:  &c. 
Sometimes  this  was  signified  by  double  and  treble  letters,  thus: 
AP.  Appius:  CN.  Cneius :  SP.  Spurius:  TI.  Tiberius: 
MAM.  Ma m crcus :  SER.  Sarcitis:  SEX.  Sextus:  &c. 

2.  The  nomen,  which  immediately  followed  the  prtenomen, 
answering  to  the  Grecian  patronymic,  or  family  name,  ending 
mostly  in  ius:  as  Julius,  Tullius,  i.  e.  of  Julius,  of  Tullius. 
Such  a  person  of  the  Julian  Jamil;/,  of  the  Tullian  family, 
&c. 

3.  The  cognomen,  which  was  added  for  the  distinction  of 
families  ;  and  was  usually  derived  from  some  country,  acci- 
dent, or  particular  occurrence,  and  this  divided  the  family  into 
branches:  as  Agrippa,  Ccesar,  Cicero,  &c.  A  fourth  name 
was  sometimes  added,  called  agnomen,  which  was  given  as 
a  title  of  honor:  as  Cato  was  termed  Sapiens,  the  wise; 
Crassus,  Dives,  the  rich;  and  hence  came  the  Africani,  Asi- 
atici,  Macedonici,  &c.  But  these  by  some  of  the  best  writers 
are  termed  cognomina,  and  therefore  the  distinction  is  not 
necessary  ;  agnomen  and  cognomen  may  be  considered  as 
implying  the  same,  for  they  are  indifferently  used. 

The  ingenui  were  the  same  among  the  Romans  as  gentle- 
men among  us  ;  and  they  define  them  thus  : — Qui  inter  se  eo- 
dem  sunt  nomine,  ab  ingenuis  oriundi,  quorum  majorum 
nemo  scrvitutem  servivit,  et  qui  Capite  diminuti  non  sunt. 
"  Those  who  have  a  certain  family  name,  were  born  of  free- 
men, whose  ancestors  were  never  in  servitude,  and  who  have 
never  been  degraded  from  their  kindred  or  ancient  stock." 

Though  it  has  not  been  found  that  any  branch  of  the  family 
of  the  Clarkes  claimed  nobility,  yet  it  has  always  appeared 
that  the  character  of  gentility, — generosi,  or  ingenui, — has 
been  conceded  to  them,  and  to  them  'he  Roman  definition  of 
ingenui,  is  in  every  respect  applicable.  They  came  from  a 
pure  and  ancient  stock,  they  had  never  been  in  bondage  to  any 
man,  had  never  been  legally  disgraced,  and  never  forfeited 
their  character.  In  this  family  I  have  often  heard  the  inno- 
cent boast,  None  of  our  family  has  ever  served  the  stranger. 

The  family  was  originally  English,  but  from  what  branch  of 
the  family,  or  from  what  county  in  England  the  subject  of 
this  Memoir  descended,  has  not  been  satisfactorily  deduced. 
The  family  tradition  is,  that  they  went  over  to  Ireland  in  the 
17th  century,  and  had  part  of  what  were  called  the  Debenture 
Lands,  and  settled  in  the  county  of  Antrim,  about  Larne. 
Glenarm,  and  Grange,  where  they  had  considerable  estates. 
They  became  matrimonially  connected  with  the  Higgisons, 
Strawbridges,  Courtenays,  and  Bnyds  ;  the  latter  of  whom 
deduce  their  origin  in  uninterrupted  descent  from  the  cele- 


Family  or  the  clarkls. 


brated  Boyds  of  Kilmarnock  in  Scotland :  some  of  the  BoycU, 
in  virtue  of  the  above  alliance,  still  possess  a  considerable 
landed  property  in  the  above  country.  Some  of  the  Mac  Al- 
leys married  into  this  family,  but  changed  their  names  to 
Boyd,  in  order  to  inherit  the  paternal  estates.  One  of  these, 
the  late  Hugh  Mac  Auley  Boyd,  Esq.,  sent  in  1784,  ambassa- 
dor to  the  Court  of  Candy,  by  Lord  Macartney,  Governor 
General  of  India,  (reputed  by  some  as  the  author  of  that  still 
celebrated  political  work,  called  the  Letters  of  Junius,)  has 
left  a  son,  Hugh  Stuart  Boyd,  who  is  equal  in  elegant  ac- 
complishments to  his  father,  and  his  superior  in  classic  at- 
tainments ;  and  especially  in  his  profound  knowledge  of  the 
Greek  language,  and  the  most  illustrious  writers  of  antiquity. 
He  possesses  a  part  of  these  estates,  extending  to,  and  com- 
prehending Red  Bay  near  Glenann.* 

*  The  following  two  letters  from  Dr.  Clarke,  dated  Dublin,  June 
15,  and  26,  1823,  will  throw  some  more  light  upon  the  subject  of  the 
Clarke  family. 

I  came  in  here  last  night,  after  a  hard  journey  of  several  days :  from 
Glasgow  to  Belfast  we  were  twenty-three  hours  and  a  half,  in  which 
we  encountered  a  violent  storm,  and  had  the  wind  right  a-head  the 
whole  passage.  I  went  to  see  my  aunt  M' Ready,  which  took  me  one 
hundred  miles  out  of  my  way,  and  at  very  considerable  expense. 
However,  I  knew  it  must  be  the  last  opportunity  I  could  ever  have  of 
seeing  her,  and  making  the  inquiries  you  wished.  I  found  her  in  com- 
paratively good  healthj  and  all  her  faculties  as  sound  as  a  bclL  I  set 
about  the  inquiries ;  and  the  following  is  the  result. 

My  father  John  Clarke,  was  son  to  William  Clarke,  who  was 
feon  to  John  Clarke,  who  was  son  to  William  Clarke.  She  can  go 
ho  higher ;  and  this  is  to  my  grcai-greci-grandfather.  Now  for  par- 
ticulars. 

1.  My  great-great-grandfather  William  Clarke,  was  an  estated 
gentleman  of  Grange,  in  the  county  of  Antrim,  and  was  appointed  in 
1690  to  receive  the  Prince  of  Orange,  when  he  came  to  Carrickfergus. 
He  had  received  the  principles  of  George  Fox,  and,  as  he  could  not 
Uncover  his  head  to  any  man,  before  he  came  near  to  the  prince,  he 
took  off  his  hat  and  laid  it  on  a  stone  by  the  wayside,  and  walked  for- 
ward. When  he  met  the  prince,  he  accosted  him  thus:  "William, 
thou  art  welcome  to  this  kingdom." — "  I  thank  you,  sir,"  replied  the 
prince;  and  the  interview  was  so  satisfactory  to  the  prince,  that  he 
said,  "  You  are,  sir,  the  best  bred  gentleman  I  have  ever  met." 

2.  John,  my  greatgrandfather,  the  son  of  William  the  Quaker, 

married  Miss  Amic  Horseman,  daughter  to  Horseman,  mayor  of 

Carrickfergus,  whose,  son  succeeded  to  the  mayoralty  thirty  years 
afterwards.  Of  the  year  in  which  Mr.  Horseman,  the  father,  who 
married  Miss  Anne  Clarke,  was  mayor,  she  cannot  tell ;  but  this  may 
be  easily  ascertained  by  searching  the  records  of  that  city  and  fortress. 
To  John,  my  great-grandfather,  and  Miss  Horseman,  were  born 
eighteen  sons  and  one  daughter.  The  daughter,  Sarah,  was  mar- 
ried to  a  Mr.  Williamson,  of  the  county  Antrim ; — I  suppose  an  es- 
tated gentleman,  but  she  does  not  recollect  to  have  heard  any  particu- 
lars of  him  or  his  family. 


FAMILY  OF  THE  CLARKES.  43 

William,  the  grandfather  of  Adam  Clarke,  married  into  the 
Boyd  family ;  he  was  an  intelligent  religious  man,  a  builder 
by  trade,  and  the  eldest  of  six  brothers,  who  chiefly  settled  in 
the  vicinity  of  Maghera,  Magherafelt,  and  near  the  borders  of 
the  beautitul  lake  of  Lough  Neagh.    The  youngest  of  these 

Of  the  eighteen  sons  of  John,  and  Anne  Horseman,  she  remembers 
only  nine.    They  are  the  following: 

1.  Samuel  Clarke,  of  Gulladuff,  (his  own  estate.)  who  married 
Miss  M'Peakc,  who  had  issue  John  and  Thomas,  of  the  same  place, 
and  several  daugliters. 

2.  Anthony  Clarke,  of  Ballyruff,  (his  own  estate,)  who  had  issue 
Anthony,  who  had  issue. 

3.  Joseph  Clarke,  who  chose  a  military  life,  and  was  killed  with 
General  Wolfe,  at  the  battle  of  Quebec ;  he  had  issue  John ;  farther 
unknown. 

4.  Robert  Clarke,  of  Ballyruff,  (his  own  estate,)  who  had  married 
Miss  Burnet,  and  had  issue  Alexander,  &c.  &c. 

5.  Walter  Clarke,  of  Ballyruff,  who  had  several  daughters,  of 
whom  I  have  no  particulars. 

6.  John  Clarke,  a  farmer,  of  whom  I  find  nothing. 

7.  Richard  Clarke,  captain  of  a  ship,  and  died  in  the  Bloody  Islands. 
Query — which  were  they  1 

8.  Horseman  Clarke.  He  and  several  others  having  pursued  a  mad 
dog,  and  killed  him,  one  of  the  company,  in  sport,  took  the  dog  by  the 
legs  and  hit  some  of  the  others  with  him,  among  the  rest  Horseman, 
against  whose  neck  some  of  the  foam  was  spattered,  and  he  died  of 
hydrophobia  in  three  days ;  as  he  was  a  young  lad,  he  was  not  usually 
counted  in  the  number  of  the  sons,  who  were  called  the  "  seventeen 
sons,"  because  so  many  grew  up  to  man's  estate. 

9.  William  Clarke,  my  grandfather,  who  married  Miss  Boyd,  and 
who  had  issue  John,  my  father,  Archibald,  William,  and  Adam,  after 
whom  I  was  named,  and  who,  as  I  found  now  on  his  stone  in  Kilchro- 
naghan  church,  "  died  in  August,  1756."  There  were  two  daughters, 
Anne,  who  married  Mr.  Wollock  M'Kracken;  and  Mary,  who  mar- 
ried Mr.  Alexander  M' Ready. 

Archibald  Boyd,  my  great  great  maternal  grandfather,was  a  Presby- 
terian clergyman,  and  the  first  who  preached  as  Protestant, in  Maghera, 
after  the  Revolution  in  1688.  He  married  Miss  Catharine  Straw- 
bridge,  a  Scotch  lady.  Mr.  Boyd's  sister,  married  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hig- 
gison,  rector  of  I^arne,  in  whose  family  that  rectory  still  continues. 
Of  the  rest  of  this  family  I  think  you  have  Adam  Boyd's  own 
account. 

The  above  are  all  the  particulars  I  could  gain  from  this  interview, 
and  I  think  all  the  leading  ones  that  can  be  obtained ;  and  we  were  all 
surprised  at  the  amazing  accuracy  and  precision  of  my  aunt's  me- 
mory, she  did  not  falter  in  the  least ;  and  still  gave  the  same  account 
in  the  same  words. 

Dublin,  June  26,  1823. 
Since  I  wrote  the  enclosed  letter,  which  was  early  this  morning,  I 
have  received  yours  of  the  19th.  From  the  state  of  the  country  you 
will  see  that  I  can  make  no  more  excursions ;  and  therefore,  I  suppose 
all  farther  communications  from  my  aunt  must  be  given  up.  It  is 
well  that  we  have  saved  so  much  ;  I  can  tell  you  that  "  Gabriel,  or,  as 


14 


FAMILY  OF  THE  CLARKES. 


brothers  chose  a  military  life,  and  was  slain  with  his  general, 
the  celebrated  Wolfe,  at  the  battle  of  Quebec,  Oct.  18,  A.  D. 
1759. 

John,  the  eldest  son  of  William,  and  father  of  Adam,  was 
intended  by  his  father  for  the  Church,  and  in  consequence  got 
a  good  classical  education,  which  having  finished,  he  studied 
successively  at  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  where  he  proceeded 
M.  A.,  and  afterwards  entered  as  a  Sizer  in  Trinity  College, 
Dublin  j  at  a  time  when  classical  merit  alone  could  gain  such 
an  admission.    His  stay  here  was  but  short ;  a  severe  fever, 

he  is  called  in  the  family,  Geby  Clarke,  was  one  of  our  ancestors,  and 
lost  the  Grange  Estates,  by  the  absence  of  one  witness,  who  was  the 
only  one  who  could  attest  a  certain  marriage."  This  information  I 
had  accidentally  from  a  woman  in  Belfast,  who  saw  me  standing  at 
the  coach-office  door,  waiting  for  the  clerk,  in  order  to  take  my  place 
for  Dublin.  She  came  up  to  me  and  told  mc  she  was  one  of  my  rela- 
tives, mentioned  Samson  Clarke  of  Belfast,  who  I  believe  was  her 
father  or  uncle;  and  mentioned  Geby,  as  being  famous  in  the  family. 
I  might  have  had  much  from  this  woman,  but- not  knowing  her,  and  it 
being  in  the  street,  I  did  not  encourage  her  to  talk  ;  I  know  not  who 
she  is  :  but  I  knew  Samson  Clarke  of  Belfast,  he  has  been  dead  only 
about  10  years.  I  send  you  the  minutes  which  Mary  took  while  Aunt 
and  I  were  conversing :  there  I  find  Samuel  marked  as  the  eldest  of 
my  granduncles,  but  whether  older  than  William  his  brother,  and  my 
grandfather,  I  do  not  know — I  always  thought  my  grandfather  Clarke 
the  oldest.  I  believe  all  the  others  come  in,  in  the  order  mentioned  by 
Mary  and  myself;  but  I  know  my  aunt  expressed  herself  uncertain 
concerning  the  priority  of  some  of  them. 

So  far  as  I  can  find,  the  estates  at  Grange,  were  lost  to  our  family, 
in  consequence  of  the  failure  of  a  proof  of  marriage,  in  Gebv's  case  ; 
from  which  I  am  led  to  think,  that  those  estates  came  by  marriage,  and 
that  they  were  not  inheritances  of  the  Clarke  family  :  but  there  were 
several  other  estates,  besides  those,  and  there  are  some  now,  in  the 
hands  of  some  of  my  granduncles'  sons. 

If  one  had  about  a  fortnight  or  a  month  to  ride  about  the  countries 
I  have  been  in,  he  might  make  more  out;  but  every  branch  of  the 
family,  knowing  that  they  are  wrongfully  kept  out  of  their  estates,  are 
full  of  jealousy,  when  you  make  any  of  those  inquiries,  thinking  that 
you  are  about  to  possess  yourself  of  their  property !  On  this  very 
ground,  I  have  been  very  cautious  in  all  my  inquiries.  I  think  I  have 
heard  of  a  Christopher,  I  am  sure  of  a  Bartlerny  in  the  family,  and 
Gabriel.  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  heard  of  a  Francis  or  Silvester, 
but  doubtless  my  aunt  could  tell.  I  will  send  the  questions  to  cousin 
Attic,  and  let  him  get  me  what  information  he  can,  but  little  can  be 
had  but  on  the  spot,  and  I  scarcely  know  how  to  get  a  letter  direct  to 
him,  it  is  such  an  out  of  the  way  place.  I  asked  my  aunt  particularly, 
if  she  knew  any  one  before  William  the  Quaker ;  she  said  she  did  not, 
so  he  is  the  utmost  a  priori,  and  she  herself  is  the  hindmost  a  poste- 
riori, except  our  own  family.  About  coming  origindStfy  frthn  Eng- 
land, and  receiving  some  of  the.  Debenture  Lands,  I  have  heard  my 
father  often  speak,  but  I  know  no  circumstances.  Tomorrow  I  begin 
the  Conference,  and  shall  have  no  moment  till  it  be  concluded ;  and 
then  I  must  march  back. 


FAMILY  OF  THE  CLARKE3. 


4a 


and  afterwards  a  premature  marriage,  terminated  his  studies, 
and  blasted  his  prospects  in  the  Church :  and,  although  the 
latter  step  put  him  in  possession  of  a  woman,  who  made  him 
one  of  the  best  and  most  affectionate  of  wives,  yet  an  increase 
of  family,  and  the  uncertainty  of  any  adequate  ecclesiastical 
provision,  caused  him  to  adopt  the  creditable  though  gainless 
profession  of  a  public  parish  schoolmaster ;  to  which  he  was 
regularly  licensed,  according  to  the  custom  that  then  prevai  - 
ed,  in  order  to  ensure  a  Protestant  education  to  the  youth  cx' 
the  country,  and  prevent  the  spread  of  Popish  principles.  By 
virtue  of  such  license,  all  teachers  in  the  parish  had  their 
nomination  from  the  master;  and  without  such  could  not 
legally  perform  the  function  of  public  teachers. 

Before  I  proceed  in  this  narrative,  it  may  be  necessary  to 
state  that  Mrs.  Clarke,  was  a  descendant  of  the  Mac  Leans, 
of  Mull  s  one  of  the  Hebrides,  or  western  isles  of  Scotland : 
and  her  great  grandfather  Laughlin  More  Mac  Lean,  called  by 
others  Neil,  who  was  chief  of  his  Clan  and  Laird  of  Dowart, 
lost  his  life,  as  did  twenty  of  his  nearest  relatives  and  his  own 
Son,  in  a  battle  with  the  clan  Mac  Donald,  in  September,  1598. 
But  their  deaths  were  shortly  after  revenged  by  Eachin,  or 
Hector  Oig,  his  son  and  successor;  who  in  a  pitched  battle 
defeated  the  Mac  Donalds,  and  thus  terminated  all  feuds  be- 
tween these  two  clans.* 

Shortly  after  Mr.  John  Clarke's  marriage,  a  circumstance  oc- 
curred which  had  an  embarrassing  effect  upon  himself  and 
family  during  his  life.  About  the  year  1758  or  1759,  the  rage 
of  emigration  to  America  was  very  prevalent  in  Ireland. 
Heavy  taxation,  oppressive  landlords,  and  the  small  encourage- 
ment held  out  either  to  genius  or  industry,  rendered  Ireland, 
though  perhaps  on  the  whole,  one  of  the  finest  islands  in  the 
Universe,  no  eligible  place  for  men  of  talents  of  any  kind, 
howsoever  directed  and  applied,  to  hope  for  an  adequate  pro- 
vision or  decent  independence  for  a  rising  family. 

America,  thin  in  her  population  and  extensive  in  her  terri- 
tory, held  out  promises  of  easily  acquired  property,  immense 
gains  by  commerce,  and  lures  of  every  description,  to  induce 
the  ill  provided  for,  and  dissatisfied  inhabitants  of  the  mother 
country  to  carry  their  persons  and  property  thither,  that  by 
their  activity  and  industry  they  might  enrich  this  rising  and 
even  then  ambitious  state.  Mr.  Clarke  was  persuaded  among 
many  others  to  indulge  these  golden  hopes,  with  the  expecta- 

*  In  the  Diary  of  Robert  Birrel,  this  feud  is  thus  mentioned: 
"  About  vis  tyme,"  (between  Aug.  3,  and  Oct.  23,  1598,)  "  Neil 
M'Lane  slaine,  and  twentie  of  lies  narrest  freindis,  and  hes  awen 
sone  be  M'Connel,  yai  being;  at  ane  tryst  under  trust."  That  is,  they 
had  engaged  under  a  particular  penalty  to  fight  this  battle.  See  Frag- 
ments of  Scottish  History,  Edinb.  1798,  4to.  p.  47,  of  the  above  men- 
tioned Diary. 


4b' 


FAMILY  OF  THE  CLARKE3. 


tion,  if  not  the  promise,  of  a  Professorship  in  one  of  the 
nascent,  or  about  to  be  erected  universities  in  the  new  world. 
In  an  evil  hour  he  broke  up  his  establishment,  sold  his  property, 
and  with  his  wife  and  an  infant  son,  went  to  the  port  and  city 
of  Londonderry,  and  took  their  passage  in  one  of  those  mer- 
chant transport  vessels  then  so  numerous,  bound  for  the 
United  States. 

At  that  time,  and  for  many  years  after,  this  rage  for  emigra- 
tion, was  so  great,  that  many  young  men,  women,  and  whole 
families,  artificers  and  husbandmen,  who  were  not  able  to  de- 
fray the  expenses  of  their  own  passage,  were  encouraged  by 
the  ship-owners  to  embark,  the  owners  providing  them  with 
the  most  miserable  necessaries  of  life  for  their  passage,  and 
throwing  them  together  like  slaves  in  a  Guinea  ship,  on  the 
middle  passage;  they  went  bound,  as  it  was  called, — the  cap- 
tain having  the  privilege  of  selling  them  for  five  or  seven 
years,  to  the  trans-atlantic  planters,  to  repay  the  expenses  of 
their  passage  and  maintenance  !  A  supine  and  culpable  go- 
vernment, which  never  sufficiently  interested  itself  for  the  wel- 
fare of  this  excellent  Island,  and  its  hardy  and  vigorous  inha- 
bitants, suffered  this  counterpart  to  the  execrable  West  India 
Slave  Trade,  to  exert  its  most  baneful  and  degrading  influence, 
among  its  own  children,  without  reprehension  or  control ;  and 
thus,  many  of  its  best  and  most  useful  subjects  were  carried 
away  to  people  states,  which,  in  consequence,  became  their 
rivals,  and  since  that  time,  their  most  formidable  enemies. 

Among  these,  as  we  have  already  seen,  Mr.  J.  Clarke,  his 
wife,  and  infant  son,  had  embarked,  and  were  on  the  eve  of 
sailing,  when  Mr.  Clarke's  father  arrived  from  the  country, 
went  on  board,  expostulated  with  his  son,  and  by  the  influence 
of  tears  and  entreaties,  enforced  by  no  small  degree  of  paren- 
tal tenderness,  and  duly  tempered  with  authority,  prevailed  on 
him  to  change  his  purpose,  to  forfeit  his  passage,  and  to  return 
with  him  to  the  country. 

Whether  this,  on  the  whole,  was  the  best  thing  that  could 
be  done  in  such  circumstances,  is  hard  to  say.  What  would 
have  been  the  result  had  he  gone  to  America,  we  cannot  tell : 
what  was  the  result  of  his  return,  the  following  pages  will  in 
some  measure  show.  The  immediate  effects  were  however, 
nearly  ruinous  to  the  family  and  its  prospects. 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune : 
Omitted  ;  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries." 

The  "  Shallows  and  Miseries"  in  which  Mr.  Clarke  was 
bound,  almost  through  life,  proved  that  he  omitted  to  take  the 
tide  at  flood. 

We  have  already  observed  that,  in  order  to  go  to  the  conti- 


adam  clarke's  birth,  etc. 


47 


nent  of  America,  he  had  broken  up  his  establishment,  and  con- 
verted his  property  into  cash.  Much  time,  and  not  a  little  of 
this  property,  had  been  spent  in  preparations  for  their  voyage, 
and  expected  settlement  in  a  strange  country :  but  he  found, 
to  his  cost,  on  his  return,  that  it  was  much  easier  to  unsettle 
than  to  establish.  He  was  undetermined  for  a  considerable 
time  what  mode  of  life  was  most  eligible,  for  many  projects  ap- 
peared fair  at  a  distance,  which,  on  a  nearer  approach,  eluded 
the  grasp  of  his  expectation  ;  and  others,  if  well-digested  and 
cautiously  and  perseveringly  pursued,  promising  honor  and 
wealth,  resembled  the  horizon  which  ever  appears  at  the  same 
distance  to  the  traveller,  though  he  have  already  passed  over 
some  thousands  of  miles  in  order  to  reach  it.  Thus, 

"  Disappointment  laughed  at  hope's  career," 

till  his  remaining  property  was  expended,  and  alternately 
elated  and  depressed  with  promises  and  disappointments,  he 
was  obliged  to  begin  the  world  anew,  equally  destitute  of  ad- 
vantages and  means.  In  this  state  of  things,  nothing  presented 
itself  to  him  but  a  choice  of  difficulties  :  friends  and  internal  re- 
sources, had  equally  failed ;  and  he  went  and  settled  in  an 
obscure  village  called  Moybeg,  township  of  Cootinaglugg,  in 
the  parish  of  Kilchronaghan,  in  the  barony  of  Loughinshallin, 
in  the  county  of  Londonderry.  In  this  obscure  district,  the 
names  of  which  almost  bid  defiance  to  enunciation,  his  second 
son  Adam,  the  subject  of  this  Memoir,  was  born,  either  in  the 
year  1760  or  1762,  most  probably  the  former,  but  neither  the 
year  nor  the  month  can  be  ascertained.  He  was  baptized  in 
the  parish  church  by  his  uncle,  the  Rev.  John  Tracy,  the  Rec- 
tor, who  had  married  his  mother's  sister.  On  application  to 
the  late  worthy  incumbent,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bryan,  to  obtain  a 
copy  of  the  baptismal  register,  the  following  answer  has  been 
obtained  : — "  The  archives  of  the  church  have  been  carefully 
searched,  but  no  register  during  Mr.  Tracy's  incumbency  has 
been  found  j  none  having  been  kept  during  that  period ;  or  if 
kept,  since  irrecoverably  lost." 

As  Mr.  Tracy  died  sometime  between  1760  and  1762,  and 
Adam  Clarke  was  baptized  by  him,  he  must  have  been  bom 
within  that  period.  The  day  and  month  are  as  uncertain  as 
the  year,  only  I  have  understood  it  was  sometime  in  the  spring. 

At  the  request  of  his  grandfather  and  grandmother  Clarke,  he 
was  named  Adam,  in  memory  of  a  beloved  son,  who  had  died 
of  the  small  pox,  when  only  six  years  of  age ;  and  thev  engaged 
that,  as  soon  as  he  could  walk  alone,  they  would  take  him  as 
their  own,  and  be  at  the  whole  charge  of  his  education. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  say  a  few  words  here  of  his  bro- 
ther, who  was  born  about  three  years  before  him.  He  was 
called  Tracy,  at  the  instance  of  h'is  uncle  the  Rev.  J.  Tracy, 
already  mentioned  ;  who,  having  no  child,  promised  to  beat  the 


ADAM  CLARKE'S  ONLY  BROTHER. 


expense  of  his  education,  &c.  Such  promises  are  rarely  ful- 
filled ;  but  this  pledge  would  probably  have  been  redeemed,  had 
Mr.  Tracy  lived,  for  he  had  already  taken  the  child  to  his  own 
house,  but  dying  shortly  after,  the  young  lad,  already  spoiled 
by  indulgence,  was  restored  to  his  parents. 

His  father  gave  him  a  classical  education,  and  when  but  a 
young  man,  he  was  appointed  and  licensed  by  the  Consistorial 
Court  of  Deny,  a  schoolmaster,  in  a  parish  contiguous  to  that 
in  which  his  father  had  a  similar  appointment,  (see  p.  45.) 
Getting  weary  of  this  mode  of  life,  which  held  out  but  faint 
promises  of  comfort  or  emolument,  he  expressed  a  strong  de- 
sire to  study  medicine,  to  which  he  had  in  some  measure  al- 
ready directed  his  attention.  His  parents  consented,  and  he 
was  bound  apprentice  to  Mr.  Pollock,  a  surgeon  and  apothe- 
cary in  the  town  of  Magherafelt, — a  gentleman  equalled  by 
few  in  his  profession,  for  various  and  sound  learning,  much, 
skill  and  deserved  eminence  in  the  practice  of  medicine  ;  and 
a  mind  highly  cultivated  by  his  classical  attainments,  and  by 
every  solid  principle  of  politeness  or  good  breeding.  Having 
terminated  his  apprenticeship  with  credit  to  himself  and  his 
master,  he  went  to  Dublin,  and  studied  anatomy  under  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Cleghorne,  who  was  professor  of  that  science 
in  Trinity  College, 

Having  received  letters  of  recommendation  to  some  mer- 
chants in  Liverpool,  whose  interest  he  hoped  would  obtain 
him  an  appointment  in  the  Navy,  he  sailed  for  England. 

This  expectation  however  failed,  and  he  went  out  surgeon 
in  a  Guinea  ship,  made  their  voyage,  laid  in  813  negroes, 
who  were  exchanged  to  them  for  guns,  gunpowder,  knives, 
and  trinkets  of  different  kinds,  and  sold  in  Tortola  to  the 
highest  bidder,  as  sheep  or  oxen  in  the  open  market.  He 
went  a  second  voyage,  kept  a  journal  of  the  way,  in  which 
he  made  entries  of  all  particulars  relative  to  the  mode  of  pro- 
curing, treating,  and  disposing  of  the  slaves ;  with  several 
other  matters  of  high  importance,  relative  to  this  inhuman  and 
infernal  traffic.  The  captain  noticing  this,  pretended  one  day 
to  have  lost  some  plate,  all  the  vessel  must  be  searched,  the 
seamen  first,  then  all  the  officers  were  requested  to  give  up 
their  keys,  with  an  apology  that  no  suspicion  attached  to 
them,,  but  merely  for  form's  sake,  lest  there  might  be  any 
ground  left  for  the  charge  of  partiality,  &c.  Surgeon  Clarke 
immediately  yielded  his  key,  which  was  restored  after  some 
time ;  but  when  he  next  visited  his  chest  he  found  that  his 
Journal  had  been  rifled,  and  every  leaf  and  page  that  con- 
tained anything  relative  to  the  traffic,  torn  out,  or  mutilated, 
so  that  from  this  documeu:,  not  one  entry  was  left,  nor  could 
be  produced  in  evidence  against  this  infamous  traffic,  and  the 
diabolical  manner  in  which  it  was  carried  on.  This  mutilated 
Journal  I  have  seen  and  examined;  and  was  informed  of  se- 


adam  clarke's  only  brother. 


49 


veral  curious  particulars  by  the  Writer,  some  of  which  I  shall 
take  the  liberty  to  relate. 

When  at  Bonny  in  Africa,  Surgeon  Clarke  had  gone  a  good 
deal  on  shore,  and  travelled  some  way  into  the  country,  and 
as  he  was  a  man  of  pleasing  manners,  and  amiable  carriage,  he 
gained  the  confidence  of  the  natives,  accommodated  himself  to 
their  mode  of  living,  and  thus  had  the  opportunity  of  making 
several  valuable  remarks  on  their  civil  and  religious  customs. 
From  observing  the  males  to  be  universally  circumcised,  he 
was  led  to  think  that  this  people  might  be  descendants  of  the 
ten  lost  Jewish  Tribes.  He  observed  farther,  that  each  of 
their  huts  was  divided  into  three  apartments ;  one  served  to 
dress  their  food  in,  one  as  a  place  of  repose,  and  the  third  was 
for  the  Juju,  the  serpent  god,  which  was  the  object  of  their 
worship.  Thus  every  hut  had  its  Temple,  and  every  Tem- 
ple had  its  Altar  and  worshippers. 

He  has  informed  me  that,  from  the  bodies  of  many  of  the 
slaves  that  were  brought  from  the  interior  to  the  coast,  he 
was  obliged  to  extract  balls,  as  they  had  been  wounded  in 
the  attempts  to  deprive  them  of  their  liberty ;  their  kidnap- 
pers hunting  them  down  like  wild  beasts,  firing  upon  all  they 
could  not  suddenly  seize,  no  doubt  killing  many,  and  bringing 
those  down  to  the  coast,  whose  wounds  were  of  such  a  nature 
as  to  promise  an  easy  cure.  In  his  excursions  into  the  coun- 
try, he  has  seen  the  wives  of  the  chiefs,  king  Peppel,  and  king 
Norfolk,  as  they  were  called,  going  out  to  the  plantations  to 
labour,  their  young  children,  (princes  and  princesses,)  on 
their  naked  backs,  holding  themselves  on  by  their  hands, 
grasping  the  shoulders  of  their  mothers,  and  when  arrived  in 
the  field,  laid  down  on  the  bare  ground  naked,  and  when 
weary  of  lying  on  one  side,  turn  on  the  other,  without  ever 
uttering  a  cry  ;  their  mothers  giving  them  the  breast  at  such 
intervals  as  they  deemed  proper.  The  following  instances  of 
inhumanity,  from  among  many  others,  I  shall  select  for  the 
Reader's  reflections.  A  stout  young  negress,  with  an  infant 
at  her  breast,  was  brought  on  board,  and  presented  to  the  cap- 
tain by  one  of  the  black  dealers,  who  by  long  trafficking  in 
flesh  and  blood  with  the  inhuman  European  slave-dealers,  had 
acquired  all  their  unfeeling  brutality.  The  captain  refused 
to  purchase  her,  saying  "  He  could  not  be  troubled  with  chil- 
dren aboard."  The  dealer  answered,  "  Why  massa  is  she 
no  good  slave  ?  is  she  no  able  work  ?"  "  Yes,"  answered  the 
captain,  "  she  would  do  well  enough,  but  I  cannot  receive 
children."  "  Well  massa,  would  massa  buy  slave  if  she  no 
had  child  ?"  l:  Yes,"  said  the  captain,  "  I  should  have  no  ob- 
jection to  her."  On  this  the  black  dealer  stepped  up  to  the 
woman,  snatched  the  child  out  of  her  arms,  and  threw  it 
overboard;  on  which  the  captain  without  expressing  the  least 
concern,  purchased  the  mother.    I  should  add,  what  will  per- 


go 


adam  clarke's  only  brother. 


haps  relieve  the  Reader's  feelings,  though  it  will  not  remove 
his  honest  indignation,  that  a  negro  seeing  the  child  thrown 
overboard,  paddled  to  the  place  with  his  canoe,  jumped  in 
after  it,  and  brought  it  up  apparently  alive,  and  immediately- 
made  towards  the  shore. 

This  captain  carried  brutality  and  ferocity  as  far  as  they 
could  go ;  even  his  own  interest  yielded  to  his  cruelty.  Du- 
ring this  passage  several  of  the  negroes  got  into  what  is  tech- 
nically called  the  sulks;  i.  e.  they  refused  to  eat;  and  fore- 
seeing their  misery,  chose  to  starve  themselves  to  death,  ra- 
ther than  encounter  it :  one  in  particular,  could  not  be  induced 
by  any  threats  or  inflicted  punishments,  to  take  his  food. 
The  captain  beat  him  in  the  most  inhuman  manner  with  a 
small  cutting  whip ;  but  without  a  sigh  or  a  groan  he  obsti- 
nately persisted.  Boiled  beans  were  one  day  brought  and 
they  endeavoured  to  induce  him  to  cat :  he  closed  his  teeth  in 
determinate  opposition.  The  captain  got  a  piece  of  iron, 
prized  open  his  jaws,  and  broke  several  of  his  teeth  in  the 
operation,  he  then  stuffed  his  mouth  full  of  the  aliment,  and 
with  the  butt  end  of  his  whip  endeavoured  to  thrust  it  down 
his  throat,  he  was  instantly  suffocated :  and  the  fiend  his 

murderer,  said  on  perceiving  it,  "  See,  d         them,  they  can 

die  whenever  they  please." 

He  drove  the  second  mate  overboard,  broke  the  arm  of  the 
cabin  boy,  with  the  stroke  of  an  iron  ladle,  and  committed  all 
kinds  of  barbarous  excesses. 

One  day  when  companies  of  the  slaves  were  brought  upon 
deck  for  the  sake  of  fresh  air,  and  an  iron  chain  was  passed 
through  their  fetters,  and  then  bolted  to  the  deck ;  it  happened 
that  a  negro  got  his  feet  out  of  his  fetters,  and  stealing  softly 
till  he  got  to  the  bowsprit,  then,  in  order  to  attract  the  attention 
of  his  tormentors,  he  set  up  a  wild  loud  laugh  ;  as  soon  as  he 
found  he  was  observed,  he  leaped  into  the  deep,  and  sunk  to 
rise  no  more.  The  captain  instantly  seized  his  musket  loaded 
with  ball,  and  fired  down  in  the  place  in  which  he  sunk,  that 
he  might  have  the  pleasure  of  killing  him  before  he  could  be 
drowned.  These  were  but  parts  of  his  ways,  but  I  shall  for- 
bear to  harrow  up  the  blood  of  the  Reader  any  longer :  such 
cruelties  are  almost  necessarily  connected  with  a  traffic  cursed 
of  God,  and  abhorred  by  man  ;  and  although  the  trade  is  abo- 
lished by  our  legislature,  yet  let  them  not  suppose  that  the  blood 
of  it  is  purged  away.  As  a  nation,  our  reckoning  is  not  yet 
settled  for  the  wrongs  of  Africa. 

It  will  not  surprise  the  reader  to  hear  that  this  captain  lost 
his  vessel  in  returning  from  the  West  Indies,  and  afterwards 
died  in  the  worlthouse  in  Liverpool. 

Filled  with  horror  at  this  inhuman  traffic,  Surgeon  Clarke 
abandoned  it  after  this  second  voyage  :  he  married  and  esta- 
blished himself  at  a  place  called  Maghull,  about  eight  miles 


adam  Clarke's  childhood. 


51 


from  Liverpool,  where  for  many  years  he  had  an  extensive 
practice,  and  was  remarkably  successful.  He  died  there  in 
1802,  universally  respected  and  regretted,  leaving  four  sons 
and  one  daughter  behind  him.  These  young  men  were  brought 
up  principally  under  the  direction  of  their  uncle  Adam ;  two 
embraced  the  medical  profession,  one  of  whom  has  been  sur- 
geon in  his  Majesty's  navy  for  about  twelve  years,  and  has 
seen  the  most  dangerous  service.  The  oldest,  a  young  man 
of  singular  habits,  much  learning  and  a  comprehensive  mind, 
is  author  of  a  work  of  deep  research,  entitled  An  Ex-position 
of  the  False  Prophet,  and  the  Number  of  the  Apocalyptic 
Beast.  They  are  all  worthy  of  their  amiable  father,  and  re- 
pay the  pains  taken  in  their  education  by  their  uncle. 

But  it  is  now  time  to  return  to  the  principal  subject  of  these 
Memoirs,  whom  we  have  yet  seen  only  on  the  threshold  of 
life. 

In  the  life  of  an  infant  there  can  be  little  of  an  interesting 
nature  ;  yet  there  were  a  few  things  so  singular  as  to  be  wor- 
thy of  remark.  His  brother  we  have  seen,  by  the  manner  of 
his  education,  was  through  the  indulgence  of  a  fond  uncle 
nearly  spoiled :  and  indeed  he  was  so  softened  by  this  inju- 
dicious treatment,  that  it  produced  an  unfavourable  effect 
throughout  life ;  being  the  first-born  and  a  fine  child  he  was 
the  favourite,  especially  of  his  mother.  Adam,  on  the  other 
hand,  met  with  little  indulgence,  was  comparatively  neglected, 
nursed  with  little  care,  and  often  left  to  make  the  best  of  his 
own  course.  He  was  no  spoiled  child,  was  always  corrected 
when  he  deserved  it ;  and  sometimes  when  but  a  small  degree 
of  blame  attached  to  his  undirected  conduct.  Through  this 
mode  of  bringing  up,  he  became  uncommonly  hardy,  was  un- 
usually patient  of  cold,  took  to  his  feet  at  eight  months  ;  and 
before  he  was  nine  months  old,  was  accustomed  to  walk  with- 
out guide  or  attendant  in  a  field  before  his  father's  door !  He 
was  remarkably  fond  of  snow;  when  he  could  little  more 
than  lisp  he  called  it  his  brother,  saw  it  fall  with  rapturous 
delight;  and  when  he  knew  that  much  of  it  lay  upon  the 
ground,  would  steal  out  of  his  bed  early  in  the  morning,  with 
nothing  on  but  his  shirt,  get  a  little  board,  go  out,  and  with  it 
dig  holes  in  the  snow,  call  them  rooms,  and  when  he  had  fin- 
ished his  frozen  apartments,  sit  down  naked  as  he  was,  and 
thus  most  contentedly  enjoy  the  fruit  of  his  own  labour! 

Though  by  no  means  a  lusty  child,  he  had  uncommon 
strength  for  his  age,  and  his  father  often  took  pleasure  in  set- 
ting him  to  roll  large  stones,  when  neighbours  or  visitants 
came  to  the  house. 

Many  of  the  relatives  of  A.  C.  on  both  sides  the  house, 
were  remarkable  for  vast  muscular  powers.  One  of  his  ma- 
ternal uncles,  the  Rev.  1.  M'Lean,  a  Clergyman,  possessed  in- 
credible strength,  which  he  often  used,  not  in  the  best  of  causes. 


52 


FAMILY  PECULIARITIES. 


He  could  bend  iron  bars  with  a  stroke  of  his  arm ;  roll  up  large 
pewter  dishes  like  a  scroll  with  his  fingers ;  and  when  travel- 
ling through  Bovagh  wood,  a  place  through  which  his  walks 
frequently  lay,  he  has  been  known  to  pull  down  the  top  of  an 
oak-sapling,  twist  it  into  a  withe  by  the  mere  strength  of  his 
arms  and  fingers,  and  thus  working  it  down  in  a  spiral  form  to 
the  earth,  leave  it  with  its  root  in  the  ground,  for  the  astonish- 
ment of  all  that  might  pass  by. 

One  day  dining  at  an  inn  with  two  officers,  who,  perhaps, 
unluckily  for  themselves,  wished  to  be  witty  at  the  parson's 
expense ;  he  said  something  which  had  a  tendency  to  lessen 
their  self-confidence.  One  of  them  considering  his  honour 
touched,  said,  "  Sir,  were  it  not  for  your  cloth,  I  would  oblige 
you  to  eat  the  words  you  have  spoken."  Mr.  M'Lean  rose  up 
in  a  moment,  took  off  his  coat,  rolled  it  up  in  a  bundle  and 
threw  it  under  the  table,  with  these  fearful  words  ;  "  Divinity 
lie  thou  there,  and  M'Lean  do  for  thyself!"  So  saying,  he  seiz- 
ed the  foremost  of  the  heroes  by  the  cuff  of  the  neck  and  by 
the  waistband  of  the  breeches,  and  dashed  him  through  the 
strong  sash-window  of  the  apartment,  a  considerable  way  on 
the  opposite  pavement  of  the  street !  Such  was  the  projectile 
violence,  that  the  poor  officer  passed  through  the  sash  as  if  it 
had  been  a  cobweb. 

Both  extremes  met  in  this  family  ;  a  sister  of  this  same  gen- 
tleman, one  of  A.  C.'s  maternal  aunts,  was  only  three  feet 
high,  and  died  about  her  thirtieth  year.  Thus  Nature  was  as 
parsimonious  in  the  one  case  as  she  was  profuse  in  the  other : 
yet  there  was  another  aunt  in  the  family,  who  had  more  mus- 
cular power  than  most  common  men. 

That  district  might  be  said  to  be  the  land  of  strong  and  gi- 
gantic men.  There  was  born  and  bred  Bob  Dunbar,  famous 
for  his  lawless  and  brutal  strength.  In  the  same  barony,  if 
not  in  the  same  township,  were  born  of  ordinary  parents,  of  the 
name  of  Knight,  two  brothers,  each  of  whom  stood  seven  and 
a  half  feet  high.  It  was  a  curious  sight  to  see  these  two  young 
men  (who  generally  went  in  plain  scarlet  coats)  walking 
through  a  fair,  in  Magherafelt,  as  they  generally  stood  head 
and  shoulders  above  the  thousands  there  assembled. 

In  the  "same  township,  Moneymore,  was  the  celebrated 
Charles  Burns  born.  He  was  a  young  man,  and  so  were  the 
Knights,  when  A.  C.  was  a  lad  at  school.  Charles  Burns  was 
well  proportioned,  and  measured  eight  feet  six  inches!  In 
short,  all  the  people  in  that  country  are  among  either  the  tallest, 
the  hardiest,  or  the  strongest  in  Europe. 

Adam  Clarke  has  been  frequently  known  to  thank  God  for 
the  hardy  manner  in  which  he  was  brought  up;  and  to  say, 
"  My  heavenly  Father  saw  that  I  was  likely  to  meet  with  many 
rude  blasts  in  journeying  through  life,  and  he  prepared  me  in 
infancy  for  the  lot  his  providence  destined  for  me ;  so  that 


adam  clarke's  childhood. 


53 


through  his  mercy  I  have  been  enabled  to  carry  a  profitable 
childhood  up  to  hoary  hairs."  He  would  add,  "  He  knew  that 
I  must  walk  alone  through  life,  and  therefore  set  me  on  my  feet 
right  early,  that  I  might  be  prepared  by  long  practice  for  the 
work  I  was  appointed  to  perform." 

It  has  already  been  observed  that  his  grand  parents  promised 
to  take  him  to  themselves  when  he  could  be  safely  taken  from 
under  a  mother's  care.  This  they  accordingly  did  ;  but  little 
Adam  could  ill  brook  confinement  in  the  house  by  the  side  of 
his  grandmother.  He  was  accustomed  to  roam  about  the  walls 
and  hedges ;  and  there  being  a  draw-well  into  which  he  was 
particularly  fond  of  looking,  when  it  was  left  uncovered ;  his 
grandmother,  fearing  that  he  might  some  day  fall  in  and  be 
drowned,  sent  him  home  to  his  parents. 

He  took  the  small-pox,  when  he  was  about  five  years  old, 
in  the  natural  way  ;  inoculation  was  then  scarcely  known, 
and  the  usual  treatment  was  as  follows : — the  patient  was 
covered  up  with  a  load  of  clothes  in  a  warm  bed,  the  curtains 
drawn  close  to  keep  off  every  breath  of  air,  and  some  spiritu- 
ous liquors  carefully  given,  in  order  to  strike  the  pock  out,  as 
it  was  termed  !  It  is  no  wonder  that  such  treatment  of  an 
inflammatory  disorder  carried  thousands  to  an  untimely  grave. 
Adam  was  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  this  disease,  but  no 
authority  or  power  of  parents,  or  attendants,  could  confine 
him  to  his  bed.  Whenever  he  found  an  opportunity  he  left 
his  bed,  and  ran  out  naked  into  the  open  air.  This  he  did 
frequently,  in  defiance  of  all  custom  and  authority ;  he  was 
led  to  adopt  the  cool  regimen,  had  a  merciful  termination  of 
the  disorder,  and  escaped  without  a  single  mark !  He  has 
often  been  heard  to  say,  "  He  perfectly  remembered  this  time, 
and  still  retained  a  lively  impression  of  the  relief  he  found  in 
this  burning  disease,  by  exposure  to  the  open  air,  though  he 
suffered  much  in  walking,  for  even  the  soles  of  his  feet  were 
covered  with  pustules." 

This  early  recollection  need  not  be  wondered  at ;  his  mem- 
ory seems  to  have  been  in  exercise  from  his  tenderest  infancy  ; 
for  he  has  been  known  to  relate  circumstances  to  his  mother, 
which  he  had  in  recollection,  though  she  knew  that  they  had 
taken  place  when  probably  he  was  only  three  years  of  age  ! 

When  he  was  about  six  years  old,  an  occurrence  took  place 
which  deserves  to  be  circumstantially  related.  At  this  lime 
his  father  lived  at  Maghera,  where  he  kept  a  public  school, 
both  English  and  classical,  and  where  he  was  tutor  to  the  son 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Barnard,  then  Dean  of  Deny,  and  rector  of 
Maghera,  and  afterwards  successively  Bishop  of  Kilaloe  and 
Limerick.  Near  to  where  Mr.  Clarke  lived  was  a  very  de- 
cent orderly  family,  of  the  name  of  Brooks,  who  lived  on  a 
small  farm.  They  had  eleven  children,  some  of  whom  went 
regularly  to  Mr.  Clarke's  school :  one,  called  James,  was  the 


54 


EARLY  IMPRESSIONS. 


tenth  child,  a  lovely  lad,  between  whom  and  little  Adam  there 
subsisted  a  most  intimate  friendship,  and  strong  attachment. 
One  day  when  walking  hand  in  hand  in  a  field  near  the  house, 
they  sat  down  on  a  bank  and  began  to  enter  into  very  serious 
conversation:- — they  both  became  much  affected,  and  this  was 
deepened  to  exquisite  distress  by  the  following  observations 
made  by  little  Brooks,  "  O,  Addy,  Addy,"  said  he,  "  what  a 
dreadful  thing  is  eternity,  and,  O,  how  dreadful  to  be  put  into 
hell  fire  and  to  be  burnt  there  for  ever  and  ever !"  They  both 
wept  bitterly,  and,  as  they  could,  begged  God  to  forgive  their 
sins  ;  and  they  made  to  each  other  strong  promises  of  amend- 
ment. They  wept  till  they  were  really  sick,  and  departed 
from  each  other  with  full  and  pensive  hearts  ! 

In  reviewing  this  circumstance,  Adam  has  been  heard  to 
say : — "  I  was  then  truly  and  deeply  convinced  that  I  was  a 
sinner,  and  that  I  was  liable  to  eternal  punishment;  and  that 
nothing  but  the  mercy  of  God  could  save  me  from  it :  though 
I  was  not  so  conscious  of  any  other  sin  as  that  of  disobedience 
to  my  parents,  which  at  that  time  affected  me  most  forcibly. 
When  I  left  my  little  companion,  I  went  home,  told  the  whole 
to  my  mother  with  a  full  heart,  expressing  the  hope  that  I  should 
never  more  say  any  bad  words,  or  refuse  to  do  what  she  or  my 
father  might  command.  She  was  both  surprised  and  affected, 
and  gave  me  much  encouragement,  and  prayed  heartily  forme. 
With  a  glad  heart  she  communicated  the  information  to  my 
father,  on  whom  I  could  see  it  did  not  make  the  same  impres- 
sion;  for  he  had  little  opinion  of  pious  resolutions  in  childish 
minds,  though  he  feared  God,  and  was  a  serious  conscientious 
churchman.  I  must  own  that  the  way  in  which  he  treated  it 
was  very  discouraging  to  my  mind,  and  served  to  mingle  im- 
pressions with  my  serious  feelings,  that  were  not  friendly  to 
their  permanence:  yet  the  impression,  though  it  grew  faint, 
did  not  wear  away.  It  was  laid  deep  in  the  consideration  of 
eternity ;  and  my  accountableness  to  God  for  my  conduct ;  and 
the  absolute  necessity  of  enjoy  ing  his  favour,  that  I  might  never 
taste  the  bitter  pains  of  eternal  death.  Had  I  had  any  person 
to  point  out  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of 
the  world,  I  believe  I  should  then  have  been  found  as  capable 
of  repentance  and  faith,  (my  youth  and  circumstances  consi- 
dered,) as  I  ever  was  afterwards.  But  I  had  no  helper,  'no 
messenger,  one  among  a  thousand,  who  could  shew  man  his 
righteousness.''  " 

Though  the  place  was  divided  between  the  Church  and  the 
Presbyterians,  yet  there  was  little  even  of  the  formof  godliness, 
and  still  less  of  the  power.  Nor  indeed,  were  the  people  excited 
to  examine  the  principles  of  their  own  creed,  till  many  years 
after,  when  the  Methodists  came  into  that  country,  "preaching 
repentance  towards  God,  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

As  to  his  little  companion,  James  Brooks,  there  was  some- 


EARLY  ANTIPATHIES. 


thing  singular  in  his  history.  It  has  already  been  noted  that  he 
was  the  tenth  child  of  his  parents,  and  that  the  Rector  of  the 
parish  was  the  famous  Dr.  Barnard,  deservedly  celebrated 
among  the  literary  friends  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson. 

Mrs.  Brooks  having  gone  to  the  dean's  one  morning,  to  pay 
her  tithe,  took  little  James  in  her  hand:  when  she  had  laid 
down  her  money,  she  observed: — "Sir,  you  have  annually  the 
tenth  of  all  I  possess,  except  my  children;  it  is  but  justice  you 
should  have  the  tenth  of  them  also.  I  have  eleven,  and  this  is 
my  tenth  son,  whom  I  have  brought  to  you  as  the  tithe  of  my 
children,  as  I  have  brought  the  tithe  of  my  grain.  I  hope, 
Sir,  you  will  take  and  provide  for  him."  To  this  singular  ad- 
dress, the  dean  found  it  difficult  to  reply.  He  could  not,  at 
first,  suppose  the  woman  to  be  in  earnest:  but  on  her  urging 
her  application,  and  almost  insisting  on  his  receiving  this  tenth 
of  her  intellectual  live  stock,  both  his  benevolence  and  humanity 
were  affected; — he  immediately  accepted  the  child,  had  him 
clothed,  &c,  let  him  lodge  with  the  parents  for  a  time,  and 
sent  him  to  school  to  Mr.  John  Clarke.  In  a  short  time  Mr. 
C.  removed  from  that  part  of  the  country;  and  what  became 
of  the  interesting  young  man  is  not  known.  He  was  always 
called  Tithe  by  the  school-boys. 

In  some  children,  as  well  as  grown-up  persons,  certain  un- 
accountable sympathies  and  atipathies  have  been  observed. 
Adam  had  a  singular  antipathy  to  large  fat  men,  or  men  with 
big  bellies,  as  he  phrased  it. 

A  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Pearce  Quinlin,  was  his  fa- 
ther's nearest  neighbour:  this  man  was  remarkably  corpulent; 
his  eyes  stood  out  with  fatness,  and  his  belly  was  enormously 
protuberant.  With  this  gentleman  Adam  was  a  favorite,  yet 
he  ever  beheld  him  with  abhorrence;  and  could  hardly  be  per- 
suaded to  receive  the  little  gifts  which  Mr.  Q..  brought  to  obtain 
his  friendship.  The  following  circumstance  rendered  the  dis- 
like more  intense. — A  dumb  man,  who  pretended  to  tell  for- 
tunes, called  there  a  spac-man,  came  one  day  to  his  father's 
house.  Mrs.  Clarke,  looked  upon  such  persons  with  a  favour- 
able eye,  as  it  was  her  opinion,  that  if  God  in  the  course  of 
his  providence,  deprived  a  man  of  one  of  his  senses,  he  com- 
pensated this  by  either  rendering  the  others  more  intense  and 
accurate,  or  by  some  particular  gift :  and  she  thought,  to  most 
that  were  born  dumb,  a  certain  degree  of  foreknowledge  was 
imparted.  She  was  therefore,  ready  to  entertain  persons  of 
this  caste :  and  the  man  in  question  was  much  noted  in  that 
country,  as  having  been  remarkably  fortunate  in  some  of  his 
guesses.  Adam,  who  was  conning  the  wizard's  face  with  an 
eye  of  remarkable  curiosity,  was  presented  to  him,  to  learn  what 
was  to  be  his  lot  in  life.  The  artist,  after  beholding  him  for 
some  time,  gave  signs  that  he  would  be  very  fond  of  the  bot- 
tle, grow  fat  and  have  an  enormous  belly!    These  were  pre- 


56 


adam  Clarke's  education 


cisely  two  of  the  things  that  he  held  in  most  ahhorrence. 
He  had  often  seen  persons  drunk,  and  he  considered  them  as 
dangerous  madmen,  or  the  most  brutish  of  beasts :  and  his 
dislike  to  the  big  belly  has  already  been  stated.  He  had  even 
then  a  high  opinion  of  the  power  and  influence  of  prayer. 
He  thought,  that  the  spae  man  might  possibly  be  correct :  but 
he  believed  there  was  no  evil  awaiting  him  in  futurity  which 
God  could  not  avert.  He  therefore  went  immediately  out  into 
a  field,  got  into  a  thicket  of  furze-bushes,  and  kneeling  down 
he  most  fervently  uttered  the  following  petition: — "O,  Lord 
God,  have  mercy  upon  me,  and  never  suffer  me  to  be  like 
Pearce  Q,uinlin  !"  This  he  urged,  with  little  variety  of  lan- 
guage, till  he  seemed  to  have  a  persuasion  that  the  evil  would 
be  averted  !  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  this  prediction  left  a 
deep  impression  upon  his  mind  :  and  he  has  hitherto  passed 
through  life's  pilgrimage,  equally  dreading  the  character  of 
the  brutal  drunkard,  and  the  appearance  of  the  human  por- 
poise. Had  it  not  been  for  this  foolish  prediction,  he  had  pos- 
sibly been  less  careful ;  and  what  the  effects  might  have  been 
we  cannot  calculate,  for  no  man  is  impeccable. 

There  was  little  remarkable  in  other  parts  of  his  childhood, 
but  that  he  was  a  very  inapt  scholar,  and  found  it  very  difficult 
to  acquire  the  knowledge  of  the  Alphabet.  For  this  dulness 
he  was  unmercifully  censured  and  unseasonably  chastised: 
and  this,  so  far  from  eliciting  genius,  rather  produced  an  in- 
crease of  hebilude,  so  that  himself  began  to  despair  of  ever 
being  able  to  acquire  any  knowledge  by  means  of  letters. 
When  he  was  about  eight  years  of  age,  he  was  led  to  enter- 
tain hopes  of  future  improvement  from  the  following  circum- 
stance. A  neighbouring  schoolmaster  calling  at  the  school 
where  he  was  then  endeavouring  to  put  vowels  and  consonants 
together ;  was  desired  by  the  teacher  to  assist  in  hearing  a 
few  of  the  lads  their  lessons :  Adam  was  the  last  that  went 
up,  not  a  little  ashamed  of  his  own  deficiency  :  he  however 
hobbled  through  his  lesson,  though  in  a  very  indifferent  man- 
ner :  and  the  teacher  apologised  to  the  stranger,  and  remarked 
that,  that  lad  was  a  grie  vous  dunce.  The  assistant,  clapping 
young  Clarke  on  the  head,  said,  Never  fear,  Sir,  this  lad  will 
make  a  good  scholar  yet.  This  was  the  first  thing  that  check- 
ed his  own  despair  of  learning;  and  gave  him  hope.  How 
injudicious  is  the  general  mode  of  dealing  with  those  who  are 
called  dull  boys.  To  every  child  learning  must  be  a  task; 
and  as  no  young  person  is  able  to  comprehend  the  maxim  that 
the  acquisition  of  learning  will  compensate  the  toil,  encou- 
ragement and  kind  words  from  the  teacher,  are  indispensably 
necessary  to  induce  the  learner  to  undergo  the  toil  of  these 
gymnastic  exercises.  Wilful  idleness  and  neglect  should  be 
reprehended  and  punished  ;  but  where  genius  has  not  yet  been 
developed,  nor  reason  acquired  its  proper  seat,  the  mildest 


AT  SCHOOL. 


57 


methods  are  the  most  likely  to  be  efficient :  and  the  smallest 
progress  should  be  watched,  and  commended,  that  it  may  ex- 
cite to  farther  attention  and  diligence.  With  those  who  are 
called  dull  boys,  this  method  rarely  fails. 

But  there  are  very  few  teachers  who  possess  the  happy  art 
of  developing  genius.  They  have  not  a  sufficiency  of  pene- 
tration to  find  out  the  bent  or  characteristic  propensity  of  the 
minds  of  their  pupils,  in  order  to  give  them  the  requisite  ex- 
citement and  direction.  In  consequence,  there  have  been 
innumerable  native  diamonds  which  have  never  shone,  be- 
cause they  have  fallen  into  such  hands  as  could  not  distinguish 
them  from  common  pebbles  ;  and  to  them  neither  the  hand  nor 
the  art  of  the  lapidary,  has  ever  been  applied.  Many  children, 
not  naturally  dull,  have  become  so  under  the  influence  of  the 
schoolmaster. 

As  soon  as  Adam  got  through  the  Reading  made  easy,  had 
Jearnt  to  spell  pretty  correctly,  and  could  read  with  tolerable 
ease  in  the  New  Testament;  his  father,  who  wished  if  possi- 
ble to  make  him  a  scholar,  put  him  into  Lilh/s  Latin  Gram- 
mar. This  was  new  and  painful  work  to  little  Clarke,  and 
he  was  stumbled  by  almost  the  first  sentence  which  he  was 
ordered  to  get  by  heart ;  not  because  he  could  not  commit  it  to 
memory,  but  because  he  could  not  comprehend — 

"  In  speech  be  these  eight  parts  following  ;  Noun,  Pronoun, 
Verb,  Participle,  declined ;  Adverb,  Conjunction,  Preposi- 
tion, Interjection,  undeclined." 

He,  however,  committed  this  to  memory,  and  repeated  it 
and  many  of  its  fellows,  without  understanding  one  tittle  of 
the  matter ;  for  no  pains  were  taken  to  enable  him  to  see  the 
reason  of  those  things  which  he  was  commanded  to  get  by 
rote ;  and  as  the  understanding  was  not  instructed,  the  me- 
mory was  uselessly  burthened. 

The  declensions  of  nouns  were  painful,  but  he  overcame 
them :  the  conjugations  of  the  verbs  he  got  more  easily 
through,  because  there  he  perceived  a  species  of  harmony  or 
mtisic,  and  they  were  no  burthen  to  his  memory  ;  though 
each  verb  was  required  to  be  conjugated  after  the  manner  of 
Hoole,  yet  he  could  pretty  readily  run  through  them  all,  and 
took  delight  to  puzzle  his  school-fellows  with  difficult  verbs, 
especially  those  which  admitted  great  variety  of  inflection: 
e.  g.  Lavo,  lavas,  lavi,  atque  lavavi  ;  lavare,  lavandi,  lavan- 
do,  lavandum ;  lautum,  lautu,  lotitm,  lotu,  atque  lavatum, 
lavatu ;  lurans,  lauturus,  loturus,  atque  lavaturus. 

Propria  quce  maribus,  he  got  through  with  difficulty,  at  two 
lines  each  lesson ;  which  he  was  to  repeat,  afterwards  con- 
strue, and  lastly  parse.  With  the  As  in  prcesenli,  of  the  same 
ponderous  grammar,  he  was  puzzled  beyond  measure:  he 
could  not  well  understand  the  60  fit  hi,  do  fit  di,  mo  fit  ui,  no 
fit  vi,  quo  fit  gut,  to  fit  ti,  &c.  &c,  and  could  by  no  means  pro- 


58 


adam  clarke's  education 


ceed :  of  the  reason  or  probable  utility  of  such  things,  he 
could  form  no  adequate  judgment :  and  at  last  this  became  so 
intolerable,  that  he  employed  two  whole  days  and  a  part  of 
the  third,  in  fruitless  endeavours  to  commit  to  memory  two 
lines,  with  their  construction,  of  what  appeared  to  him,  use- 
less and  incomprehensible  jargon.  His  distress  was  inde- 
scribable, and  he  watered  his  book  with  his  tears:  at  last  he 
laid  it  by,  with  a  broken  heart,  and  in  utter  despair  of  ever 
being  able  to  make  any  progress.  He  took  up  an  English 
Testament,  sneaked  into  an  English  class?  and  rose  with 
them  to  say  a  lesson.  The  master  perceiving  it,  said  in  a 
terrific  tone,  "  Sir,  what  brought  you  here  ?  where  is  your 
Latin  grammar?"  He  burst  into  tears,  and  said,  with  a 
piteous  tone,  I  cannot  learn  it.  He  had  now  reason  to  expect 
all  the  severity  of  the  rod :  but  the  master,  getting  a  little 
moderate,  perhaps  moved  by  his  tears,  contented  himself  with 
saying  "Go,  Sirrah,  and  take  up  your  grammar:  if  you  do 
not  speedily  get.  that  lesson,  I  shall  pull  your  ears  as  long  as 
Jowler's,  (a  great  dog  belonging  to  the  premises,)  and  you 
shall  be  a  beggar  to  the  day  of  your  death."  These  were 
terrible  words,  and  seemed  to  express  the  sentence  of  a  ruth- 
less and  unavoidable  destiny.  He  retired  and  sat  down  by 
the  side  of  a  young  gentleman  with  whom  he  had  been  in 
class,  but  who,  unable  to  lag  behind  Avith  his  dulness,  re- 
quested to  be  separated,  that  he  might  advance  by  himself. 
Here  he  was  received  with  the  most  bitter  taunts,  and  poig- 
nant insults.  "  What !  have  you  not  learned  that  lesson  yet? 
O  what  a  stupid  ass!  You  and  I  began  together:  you  are 
now  only  in  As  in  prcesenli,  and  I  am  in  Syntax !"  and  then 
with  cruel  mockings,  began  to  repeat  the  last  lesson  he  had 
learned.  The  effect  of  this  was  astonishing — young  Clarke 
was  roused  as  from  a  lethargy  ;  he  felt,  as  he  expressed  him- 
self, as  if  something  had  broken  within  him  :  his  mind  in  a 
moment  was  all  light.  Though  he  felt  indescribably  morti- 
fied, he  did  not  feel  indignant :  what,  said  he  to  himself,  shall 
lever  be  a  dunce,  and  the  butt  of  those  fellows'  insults !  He 
snatched  up  his  book,  in  a  few  moments  committed  the 
iesson  to  memory,  got  the  construction  speedily ;  went  up 
and  said  it,  without  missing  a  word  ! — took  up  another  lesson, 
acquired  it  almost  immediately,  said  this  also  without  a 
blemish,  and  in  the  course  of  that  day  wearied  the  master  with 
his  so  often  repeated  returns  to  say  lessons  ;  and  committed  to 
memory  all  the  Latin  verses  with  their  English  construction, 
in  which  heavy  and  tedious  Lilly  has  described  the  four  con- 
jugations, with  their  rules,  exceptions,  &c.  &c.  Nothing  like 
this  had  ever  appeared  in  the  school  before — the  boys  were 
astonished — admiration  took  the  place  of  mockings  and  insult, 
and  from  that  hour,  it  may  be  said  from  that  moment,  he 
found  his  memory  at  least  capable  of  embracing  every  subject 


AT  SCHOOL. 


that  was  brought  before  it,  and  his  own  long  sorrow  was 
turned  into  instant  joy  ! 

For  such  a  revolution  in  the  mind  of  a  child,  it  will  not  be 
easy  to  account.  He  was  not  idle,  and  though  playful  never 
wished  to  indulge  this  disposition  at  the  expense  of  instruc- 
tion— his  own  felt  incapacity  was  a  most  oppressive  burthen ; 
and  the  anguish  of  his  heart  was  evidenced  by  the  tears  which 
often  flowed  from  his  eyes.  Reproof  and  punishment  pro- 
duced neither  change  nor  good,  for  there  was  nothing  to  be 
corrected  to  which  they  could  apply.  Threatenings  were 
equally  unavailing,  because  there  was  no  wilful  indisposition 
to  study  and  application ;  and  the  fruitless  desire  to  learn, 
shewed  at  least  the  regret  of  the  want  of  that  ability  for  the 
acquisition  of  which,  he  would  have  been  willing  to  have 
made  any  kind  of  sacrifices. 

At  last  this  ability  was  strangely  acquired,  but  not  by  slow 
degrees  j  there  was  no  conquest  over  inaptitude  and  dulness 
by  persevering  and  gradual  conflict  ;  the  power  seemed  ge- 
nerated in  a  moment,  and  in  a  moment  there  was  a  transition 
from  darkness  to  light,  from  mental  imbecility  to  intellectual 
vigour,  and  no  means  nor  excitements  were  brought  into  ope- 
ration but  those  mentioned  above.  The  reproaches  of  his 
school-fellow  were  the  spark  which  fell  on  the  gunpowder 
and  inflamed  it  instantly.  The  inflammable  matter  was  there 
before,  but  the  spark  was  wanting.  This  would  be  a  proper 
subject  for  the  discussion  of  those  who  write  on  the  philosophy 
of  the  human  mind. 

This  detail  has  been  made  the  more  particular,  because  he 
ever  considered  it  as  one  of  the  most  important  circumstances 
in  his  life  ;  and  he  has  often  mentioned  it  as  a  singular  Provi- 
dence which  gave  a  strong  characteristic  colouring  to  his  sub- 
sequent life.  This  account  may  not  be  unuseful  to  those  who 
have  the  care  of  youth ;  and  it  may  teach  the  masters  of  the 
rod  and  fenda,  that  these  are  not  the  instruments  of  instruc- 
tion, though  extremely  proper  for  the  correction  of  the  obsti- 
nate and  indolent  ; — that  motives  exciting  to  emulation  and 
to  the  prevention  of  disgrace  may  be,  at  least  in  some  cases, 
more  powerful  and  efficient  than  any  punishment  that  can  be 
inflicted  on  the  flesh.  A  thorough  study  of  the  philosophy  of 
the  human  mind  and  what  constitutes  individual  character, 
seem  essentially  necessary  qualifications  for  all  those  to  whom 
the  instruction  of  the  rising  generation  is  confided  ;  and  if  this 
be  so,  there  are  few  persons  properly  qualified  to  be  competent 
Schoolmasters. 

Let  not  the  reader  imagine  from  this  detail,  that  from  the 
time  mentioned  above,  A.  C.  found  no  difficulty  to  cultivate 
his  mind  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge;  it  was  not  so:  he 
ever  found  an  initial  difficulty  to  comprehend  any  thing;  and 
till  he  could  comprehend  in  some  measure  the  reason  of  the 


60 


adam  clarke's  education 


thing,  he  could  not  acquire  the  principle  itself.  In  this  respect 
there  was  a  great  difference  between  him  and  his  brother ;  the 
latter  apprehended  a  subject  at  first  sight,  and  knew  as 
much  ot  it  in  a  short  time  as  ever  he  knew  after :  the  former 
was  slow  in  apprehension  and  proceeded  with  great  caution 
till  he  understood  and  was  sure  of  his  principles  ;  he  then  pro- 
ceeded with  vigour,  endeavouring  to  push  those  principles  to  the 
utmost  of  their  legitimate  consequences. 

There  was  one  branch  of  knowledge  in  which  Adam  could 
never  make  any  progress ;  viz.  Arithmetic.  He  was  put  to 
this  when  he  was  very  young,  before  he  was  capable  of  com- 
prehending its  leading  principles ;  and  the  elementary  books 
then  in  common  use  were  not  happily  conceived  for  the  ad- 
vantage of  learners.  Fisher's  Arithmetic,  was  that  out  of 
which  he  learned  the  Jive  common  rules,  and  in  it  the  exam- 
ples in  many  cases  are  far  from  being  distinct,  and  are  often 
not  well  constructed  to  shew  the  principles  of  the  rule  which 
they  are  intended  to  illustrate.  What  can  a  child  make  of  the 
following  question  in  Multiplication : — "  In  ninety-eight  casks 
of  capers,  each  3cwt.  3qrs.  14lbs.,  how  many  hundreds'?" 
This  was  a  question  with  which  he  was  grievously  puzzled, 
and  which  when  he  had  mastered,  he  thought  he  had  perform- 
ed a  work  of  no  small  magnitude. 

The  depressed  state  of  this  Family  has  already  been  referred 
to,  and  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  leave  the  Reader  any  great 
hope  of  its  emerging  and  rising  to  affluence :  this  was  never 
the  case.  Still,  however,  the  best  provision  was  made  for  the 
education  of  the  two  only  sons,  which  the  disadvantageous 
circumstances  of  the  family  could  afford. 

But  how  true  is  the  saying  of  an  eminent  poet : — 

Haud  facile  emergunt  quorum  virtutibus  obstat 
Res  angusta  domi. — 

Slowly  they  rise  whose  virtues  are  oppressed 
By  hard  distress  at  home. 

Mr.  Clarke  had  always  a  small  farm,  this  was  necessary 
for  the  support  of  a  large  family  ;  his  professional  labours  being 
inadequately  remunerated  at  best,  and  often  ill  repaid  by  the 
parents  of  his  pupils.  It  has  no  doubt  been  already  perceived 
that  Mr.  C.'s  school  was  of  a  mixed  nature.  He  taught  by 
himself  alone,  Reading,  Writing,  and  Arithmetic,  comprising 
Bookkeeping,  Trigonometry,  and  Navigation  ;  together  with 
the  Greek  and  Latin  classics.  The  price  at  Avhich  each  was 
taught  may  be  reputed  a  curiosity : — 

Reading,  l$d.  per  week;  Writing,  2d.;  Writing  and  Ac- 
compts,  4d.;  and  Greek  and  Latin  7s.  per  quarter.  These 
were  the  highest  terms  in  that  country  in  the  latter  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century. 


AT  SCHOOL. 


61 


Should  it  be  supposed  that  the  work  was  proportioned  to  the 
wages,  it  may  safely  be  asserted,  it  was  not.  Mr.  C.  was  a 
good  penman,  few,  if  any  classical  scholars  superior:  he  was 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  arithmetic,  and  taught  it  well;  and 
of  his  classical  knowledge,  his  son  Adam,  no  mean  judge  in  a 
matter  of  this  nature,  has  been  heard  to  say,  "I  have  known 
many  of  more  splendid  literary  talents  than  my  father,  many 
who  could  shine  more  pro  re  nata,  in  Greek  and  Latin  learn- 
ing; but  a  more  correct  scholar  I  never  knew."  Many  persons 
of  considerable  eminence  in  all  departments  of  science  and  li- 
terature were  educated  by  Mr.  Clarke, — Clergymen,  Presbyte- 
rian Ministers  and  Popish  Priests;  Lawyers,  Surgeons,  Physi- 
cians, and  Schoolmasters. 

From  this  statement  it  will  appear,  that  he  required  some- 
thing to  help  out  the  deficiencies  of  his  school,  for  the  support 
of  a  numerous  family :  Agriculture,  as  has  already  been  ob- 
served, of  which  he  was  particularly  fond,  was  that  to  which 
he  had  recourse.  On  a  peculiarly  ungrateful  soil,  which  he 
held  for  many  years,  he  bestowed  much  of  his  own  labour  both 
early  and  late,  this  was  the  only  time  he  had ;  for  both  in 
summer  and  winter  he  entered  his  school  precisely  at  eight  in 
the  morning,  which  he  continued  till  eight  in  the  evening 
in  summer,  and  till  near  four  in  the  depth  of  winter.  From 
May  till  September,  he  allowed  one  hour  for  dinner:  during 
the  rest  of  the  year  the  school  was  continued  without  any  in- 
termission. He  had  only  two  vacations  in  the  year,  amount- 
ing to  three  weeks  in  the  whole;  eight  days  at  Easter  and  a 
fortnight  at  Christmas.  Before  and  after  school  hours  was 
the  onlv  time  in  which  he  could  do  any  thing  in  his  little 
farm;,  the  rest  of  the  labor,  except  in  those  times  when  several 
hands  must  be  employed  to  plant  and  sow,  or  gather  in  the 
kindly  fruits  of  the  earth,  was  performed,  with  very  little  fo- 
reign assistance,  by  his  two  sons.  This  cramped  their  educa- 
tion; but,  Omnia  vincitimprobus  labor  ;  the  two  brothers  went 
day  about  to  school,  and  he  who  had  the  advantage  of  the  day's 
instruction  gained  and  remembered  all  he  could,  and  imparted 
on  his  return  to  him  who  continued  in  the  farm,  all  the  know- 
ledge that  he  had  acquired  in  the  day.  Thus  they  were  alter- 
nately instructers  and  scholars,  and  each  taught  and  learned 
fortheother.  Thiswas  makingthe  bestof  theircircumstances, 
and  such  a  plan  is  much  more  judicious  and  humane  than  that 
which  studies  to  make  one  son  a  scholar,  while  the  others, 
equally  worthy  of  attention,  are  made  the  drudges  of  the  fa- 
mily, whereby  jealousies  and  family  feuds  are  often  generated. 

Their  Father,  who  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  Georgics  of 
Virgil, — the  finest  production  of  the  finest  Poet  that  ever  lived, 
— without  particularly  calculating  that  the  agricultural  rules  in 
that  elegant  work,  were  in  many  respects  applicable  only  to 
the  soil  and  climate  of  Italy,  Lat.  45.  applied  them  in  a  widely 


62 


SCHOOL  ANECDOTES. 


different  climate,  to  a  soil  extremely  dissimilar,  in  Lat.  55,  N 
This,  in  course,  was  not  likely  to  bring  about  the  most  benefi- 
cial results.  However  this  was  the  general  plan  on  which  Mr. 
Clarke  carried  on  his  agricultural  operations;  and  it  must  be 
confessed,  howsoever  injudicious  this  must  have  been  in  several 
respects,  his  crops  were,  at  least,  as  good  as  those  of  his  neigh- 
bours. 

The  School  in  which  A.  Clarke  had  his  Classical  Education, 
was  situated  in  the  skirt  of  a  wood,  on  a  gently  rising  emi- 
nence, behind  which  a  hill  thickly  covered  with  bushes  of 
different  kinds  and  growth,  rose  to  a  considerable  height.  In 
front  of  this  little  building  there  was  a  great  variety  of  pros- 
pect, both  of  hill  and  dale,  where,  in  their  seasons,  all  the 
operations  of  husbandry  might  be  distinctly  seen.  The  boys 
who  could  be  trusted,  were  permitted  in  the  fine  weather,  to 
go  into  the  wood,  to  study  their  lessons.  In  this  most  advan- 
tageous situation,  Adam  read  the  Eclogues  and  Georgics  of 
Virgil,  where  he  had  almost  every  scene  described  in  these 
poems,  exhibited  in  real  life,  before  his  eyes.  He  has  often 
said,  if  ever  he  enjoyed  real  intellectual  happiness,  it  was  in 
that  place,  and  in  that  line  of  study.  These  living  scenes 
were  often  finer  and  more  impressive  comments  on  the  Roman 
poet,  than  all  the  laboured  notes  and  illustrations  of  the  Del- 
phin  Editors,  and  the  Variorum  Critics. 

It  was  in  this  place,  but  at  an  earlier  period  than  that  noted 
above,  that  he  composed  a  Satire  on  one  of  his  school  fellows, 
with  whom  he  had  fallen  out,  on  no  very  sufficient  grounds. 
The  poem  consisted  of  175  verses  ;  and  was  all  composed  one 
Saturday  afternoon,  after  the  breaking  up  of  school,  at  a  time 
in  which  he  had  not  learned  to  write  small  hand,  so  as  to  be 
sufficiently  intelligible  ;  his  brother  therefore  wrote  them  down 
from  his  mouth;  some  Fragments  only  remain,  and  they  may 
be  introduced  here  as  a  proof  of  what  Dr.  Johnson  calls  a 
precocity  of  genius  in  this  way :  and  although  they  should 
not  be  deemed  promissory  of  any  poetic  abilities,  yet  they  are 
at  least  for  a  lad  of  eight  or  nine  years  of  age,  as  good  as  the 
verses  on  Master  Duck,  attributed  to  the  almost  infancy  of 
the  above  celebrated  writer. 

THE  PARALLEL:- A  POEM. 

Or  Verses  on  William  W—k — n,  of  Portglenone,  in  the  County  of 
Antrim,  describing  the  base  extraction,  high  insignificance,  and  family 
connexions,  of  the  said  William  W — lc-~ -n,  alias  Pigmy  Will. 

The  Isle  Egina  as  it's  said, 
"Was  onr.e  depeopled  by  a  plague : 
Nor  male  nor  female  then  was  spared 
Save  Racus,  who  was  its  laird. 
Great  Jove  to  Eacus  gave  birth, 
As  good  a  wight  as  hv'd  on  earth ; 


SCHOOL  ANECDOTES. 


And  skill'd  in  magic  as  it's  said, 

He  found  out  means  to  stop  the  plague. 

The  ants  they  saw  to  their  surprise, 

The  nation  fall  before  their  eyes  j 

And  earnestly  desired  then, 

That  he  would  change  them  into  men. 

This  was  no  sooner  said  than  done, 

For  straight  to  conjuring  he  begun  ; 

Then  feet  and  legs  might  there  be  seen, 

And  bodies  moving  on  the  green  ; 

With  thighs,  arms,  shoulders,  neck,  and  head, 

Like  ghosts  arising  from  the  dead. 

Malta  dcsunt. 

When  all  this  tiny  race  was  fram'd, 
There  was  one  of  them  that  was  nam'd 
Ninncus,  he  of  stature  small, 
The  merest  dwarf  among  them  all ; 
The  little  Nsethius,  Pluto's  client, 
Compared  to  him  was  like  a  giant ; — 
Nor  all  the  race  of  Fairies  dire, 
Nor  Salamanders  bred  in  fire, 
Nor  Oberon  the  fairy  king, 
Nor  all  the  race  of  dwarfs  living, 
Nor  one  on  earth  compared  him  'till, 
Except  the  moth  called  Pigmy  Will.  (1) 

But  certes  here,  you'll  think  anon, 
This  is  a  rare  comparison ; 
That  such  a  lad  as  Ninneus  was, 
Should  likened  be  to  Witt  the  dwarf. 

But  now,  my  muse,  for  to  be  brief 
On  Willy's  acts  turn  o'er  a  leaf. 

The  Pigmy  people  did  declare, 
With  race  of  Cranes  a  dreadful  war ; 
And  urg'd  them  with  their  winged  might 
To  meet  them  on  the  field  to  fight. 

The  Cranes,  not  daunted  at  this  news, 
Ne'er  doubting  that  they'd  soon  confuse 
This  reptile  race,  void  dread  or  fear, 
Unto  the  battle  they  drew  near. 

Our  Pigmy  with  his  little  page,  (2) 
A  fearful  crane  did  soon  engage: 
She  tore  their  face  with  beak  and  nail, 
And  dealt  her  blows  as  thick  as  hail. 
In  minutes  three  the  page  was  kill'd  ; 
And  Will  being  well  in  running  skill'd, 
Took  to  his  heels  t'  avoid  disgrace, 
And  shun  the  rage  of  cranish  race. 
But  fortune's  smiles,  that  wait  on  th'  brave, 
Beam'd  not,  our  hero  fleet  to  save ; 
For  soon,  alas !  he  fell  flat  down. 
The  crane  observing  him  in  swoon, 
Clutch'd  and  lift  high  up  in  the  air, 
Having  fast  hold  of  poor  Will's  hair. 


64 


adam  clarke's 


At  this  unhappy  change  of  place, 
Will  made  a  haggard  rueful  face ; 
And  earnestly  desired  to  be 
Rid  of  his  potent  enemy. 
The  crane  fast  sped,  now  high,  now  low. 

ht:*u  i  „  ~„:*:fr  .  r_  _  . 


With  her  poor  caitiff  screaming  foe  ; 
Till  coming  o'er  Portnegro  town,  (3) 
She  loos'd  her  fangs,  and  let  him  down: 
And  he,  poor  wight,  like  old  king  Log, 
Came  plumb  directly  to  a  bog. 


Like  all  ancient  compositions  of  famous  and  learned  men, 
the  above  wonderful  Poem  stands  in  need  of  Notes  and  Illus- 
trations. 

(A)  The  transformation  of  the  ants  into  men  by  Eacus,  in  the  Island 
of  Egina,  is  taken  from  Ovid's  Mctam.  Lib.  VII.,  Fab.  xxvi.  and 
xxvii.    And  the  story  of  the  pigmies  and  the  cranes,  may  be  seen  in 
Homer,  Pliny,  and  Juvenal. 
(1)  Pigmy  Will, — the  school  nick-name  of  the  young  man,  William 


(2)  Little  page, — a  poor  little  serving  lad,  a  sort  of  playmate  of 
William's  when  he  was  at  his  father's  house. 

(3)  Portnegro, — the  town  of  Portglenone,  on  the  River  Ban,  near 
to  which  this  family  dwelt. 

(4)  Til  thrash  your  back, — a  very  common  expression  of  William's 
father. 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  how  could  young  Clarke,  at  this  age, 
get  the  information  which  enabled  him  to  make  the  above 
classical  allusions,  for  he  had  not  yet  read  the  authors  to  whom 
the  verses  refer  ?  It  may  be  answered,  that  he  was  now  learn- 
ing, and  was  particularly  fond  of  classical  history  ;  and,  hav- 
ing procured  an  old  copy  of  Littleton's  Dictionary,  he  made 
himself,  at  a  very  early  age,  entire  master  of  all  the  proper 
names ;  so  that  there  was  neither  person  nor  place  in  the 
classic  world,  of  which  he  could  not  give  a  ready  account. 
This  made  him  of  great  consideration  among  his  school-fel- 
lows ;  and  most  of  them  in  all  the  forms,  generally  applied  to 
him  for  information  on  the  historical  parts  of  their  lessons. 

His  love  of  reading  was  intense  and  unconquerable.  To 
gratify  this  passion,  and  a  passion  it  was  in  him,  he  would  un- 
dergo any  privations,  and  submit  to  any  kind  of  hardship.  The 
pence  that  he  and  his  brother  got  for  being  good  boys,  and 
doing  extra  work,  &c,  they  carefully  preserved,  never  laying 
them  out  on  toys,  sweetmeats,  &c,  as  other  children  did  ;  but 


Quacunque  desunt. 


When  from  Portnegro  he  came  home, 

His  friends  embrac'd  him  one  by  one ; 

But  father  said,  "  I'll  thrash  your  back,  sir,  (4) 

"  Gin  ye  dinna  mend  your  manners  straight,  sir !' 


Catera  desunt. 


FIRST  LIBRARY. 


05 


when  their  savings  amounted  to  a  sum  for  which  they  could 
purchase  some  interesting  book,  they  laid  it  out  in  this  way. 
At  first  they  got  penny  and  twopenny  histories,  afterwards 
sixpenny  books,  and  so  on,  as  their  minds  were  improved  and 
their  pence  increased. 

Their's  was  a  little  library — but  to  them  exceedingly  pre- 
cious ;  for  their  books  were  their  companions,  and  in  their 
company  every  vacant  hour  was  employed.    Before  and  after 


the  necessary  hours  of  repose  were  abridged.  Childish  his- 
tory, tales,  and  romances,  were  the  first  subjects  of  their  study. 
The  following  short  list  of  their  books  I  give  as  a  curiosity  ; 
the  names  of  several  are,  I  suppose,  no  longer  known  : — 

The  Reading  made  easy,  and  Dilworth's  Spelling- Book. 

"The  famous  and  delightful  History  of  Tom  Thumb. 

Ditto  of  Jack  the  Giant  Killer. 

Ditto  of  Jack  Horner. 

Ditto  of  Roseicall  and  Lilly  Ann. 

Ditto  of  Guy  Earl  of  Warwick. 

Ditto  of  the  Seven  Wise  Masters  and  Mistresses. 

Ditto  of  the  Nine  Worthies  of  the  World. 

Ditto  of  Thomas  Hickathrift. 

Ditto  of  Captain  James  Hind. 

Ditto  of  the  Bahcs  in  the  Wood. 

Ditto  of  the  Seven  Champioiis  of  Christendom. 

Ditto  of  Sir  Francis  Drake. 

Ditto  of  the  New  World,  i.  e.  America. 

Ditto  of  Captain  Falkner. 

Ditto  of  Monlelion,  or  the  Knight  of  the  Oracle. 

Ditto  of  Robinson  Crusoe. 

Ditto  of  Valentine  and  Orson. 

Ditto  of  Parismus  and  Parismenos. 

The  Tale  of  the  Three  Bonnets. 

The  Fairy  Tales. 

Peruvian  Tales. 

Tartarian  Tales. 

Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments. 

The  Destruction  of  Troy. 

Robin  Hood's  Garland. 

The  History  of  Adam  Bell,  Clim  of  the  Clough,  and  William  of 
Cloudesly. 

The  Life  of  Sir  William  Wallace. 

A  GroaCs  worth  of  Wit  for  a  Penny. 

Chevy  Chase. 

The  Cherry  and  the  Sloe. 

The  Gentle  Shepherd. 

The  Pilgrim^  Progress. 

Msop's  Fables,  by  L'Estrange. 

The  Holy  War. — Cum  multis  aliis,  qua  nunc  prescribere  longum  est. 

Such  were  the  humble  materials  which  served  as  semina 
for  a  very  large  stock  of  bibliographical  knowledge,  and,  as  a 


reading ;  and  to  gain  time, 


G6 


EFFECTS  OP 


foundation,  certainly  very  unpromising,  of  one  of  the  most 
select  and  valuable  private  libraries  in  the  kingdom. 

I:  From  small  beginnings  mighty  fabrics  rise." 

According  to  the  present  mode  of  education,  most  of  these 
articles  would  be  proscribed,  as  calculated  to  vitiate  the  taste 
and  give  false  impressions ;  especially  books  of  enchantment, 
chivalry,  &c.  But  is  it  not  better  to  have  a  deeply  rooted  be- 
lief of  the  existence  of  an  eternal  world, — of  God,  angels  and 
spirits,  though  mingled  with  such  superstition  as  naturally 
cleaves  to  infant  and  inexperienced  minds,  and  which  maturer 
judgment,  reflection,  and  experience,  will  easily  correct, — 
than  to  be  brought  up  in  a  general  ignorance  of  God  and  heaven, 
of  angels,  spirits,  and  spiritual  influence ;  or  in  scepticism 
concerning  the  whole  ?  There  is  a  sort  of  Sadducean  edu- 
cation now  highly  in  vogue,  that  is  laying  the  foundation  of 
general  irreligion  and  Deism.  Although  it  may  not  quadrate 
with  certain  received  maxims,  it  may  be  here  safely  asserted, 
that  it  was  such  reading  as  the  above,  that  gave  A.  Clarke  his 
literary  taste,  and  bent  his  mind  to  literary,  philosophical,  and 
metaphysical  pursuits.  He  himself  has  been  known  to  ob- 
serve, "  Had  I  never  read  those  books,  it  is  probable  I  should 
never  have  been  a  reader,  or  a  scholar,  of  any  kind :  yea,  I 
doubt  much,  whether  I  should  ever  have  been  a  religious 
man.  Books  of  enchantments,  &c,  led  me  to  believe  in  a 
spiritual  world,  and  that  if  there  were  a  devil  to  hurt,  there 
was  a  God  to  help,  who  never  deserted  the  upright :  and,  when 
I  came  to  read  the  Sacred  Writings,  I  was  confirmed  by  their 
authority  in  the  belief  I  had  received,  and  have  reason  to  thank 
God,  that  I  was  not  educated  under  the  modern  Sadducean 
system." 

At  this  early  age  he  read  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  as  he 
would  read  a  book  of  Chivalry.  Christian  was  the  great 
Hero,  by  whom  the  most  appalling  difficulties  were  surmount- 
ed, the  most  incredible  labors  performed,  powerful  enchant- 
ments dissolved,  giants  conquered,  and  devils  quelled.  It  was 
not  likely  that  he  would  see  it  as  a  spiritual  allegory :  and 
therefore  it  was  no  wonder  that  he  could  not  comprehend  how 
Christian  and  Hopeful  could  submit  to  live  several  days  and 
nights  in  the  dungeon  of  Doubting  Castle,  under  the  torture 
of  Giant  Despair,  while  the  former  "had  a  key  in  his  bosom 
which  could  open  every  lock  in  that  castle."  When  he  read 
that  part,  and  found  that  Christian  actually  had  such  a  key, 
and  did  use  it,  and  thus  released  both  himself  and  his  com- 
panion, he  called  him  fifty  fools  for  his  pains ;  and  has  often 
since  been  led  to  express  his  surprise  that  both  John  Bunyan 
the  author,  and  those  who  hold  his  creed,  should  not  have  been 
more  aware  of  these  great  truths, — that  no  grace  of  God  can 


EFFECTS  OF  SUCH  READING. 


67 


be  at  all  effectual  to  the  salvation  of  the  soul,  unless  it  be  faith- 
fully used  ; — that  we  may  have  the  power  to  believe  to  the 
saving  of  the  soul,  and  yet  not  use  that  power,  and  so  conti- 
nue in  darkness  and  condemnation :  for,  although  faith  be  the 
gift  of  God,  it  is  only  so  as  to  the  grace  of  faith,  or  power  to 
believe;  but  the  act  of  faith,  or  believing,  is  the  act  of  the 
soul,  under  the  aid  of  that  power  or  grace;  for.  although,  to 
believe  without  the  power,  is  as  ';  impossible  as  to  make  a 
world,"  yet,  when  we  have  that  power,  we  may  believe  and 
be  saved.  God  no  more  believes  for  us,  than  he  repents  for 
us.  We  may  have  the  grace  of  repentance, — a  deep  convic- 
tion from  his  spirit,  that  we  have  sinned ;  but  we  may  harden 
our  hearts  against  that  grace,  and  so  quench  the  spirit.  In 
like  manner,  we  may  have  the  grace  or  power  to  believe,  and 
yet  hesitate,  and  not  cast  ourselves  on  Divine  Mercy.  Chris- 
tian had  the  key  of  faith  in  his  bosom,  long  before  he  pulled 
it  out  to  open  the  doors  of  his  prison  house. 

In  hearing  the  history  of  the  Trojan  War;  for  his  father 
used  to  recite  it  to  his  children  as  a  Winter  Evening'' s  Tale; 
Adam  was  so  much  struck  with  the  character  of  Hector, — his 
courage,  his  calmness,  dignified  carriage,  filial  piety,  and  inflex- 
ible love  of  his  country  and  his  family,  that  he  was  quite 
enamoured  with  it ;  and  when  he  read  Burtons  Nine  Wor- 
thies of  the  World,  he  longed  to  see  Hector,  whom  he  consi- 
dered the  chief  of  the  whole  ;  and  as  he  had  heard  that  in  many 
cases  the  departed  have  revisited  their  friends  and  others ;  he 
has  gone  out  into  the  fields  by  himself,  when  a  child  of  seven 
or  eight  years  old,  and  with  the  most  ardent  desire,  invoked 
the  soul  of  the  departed  Chief  to  appear  to  him ;  and,  think- 
ing that  it  could  hear,  has  even  set  it  a  time  and  place  in  the 
fields  to  meet  him. 

Can  it  be  supposed  that  the  Romances  which  he  read  could 
be  of  any  real  service  ?  The  names  of  the  chief  of  these,  the 
Reader  has  already  seen.  With  respect  to  these  he  has  said, 
when  conversing  with  his  friends  on  the  subject, — "I  believe 
I  should  have  been  an  arrant  coward  had  I  never  read  Ro- 
mances ;  such  was  the  natural  timidity,  or  if  you  please,  im- 
becility of  my  mind."  Of  his  courage  none  could  doubt,  who 
have  seen  him,  while  offering  the  salvation  of  God  to  a  rebel 
world,  surrounded  and  assailed  by  a  desperate  mob,  standing 
alone,  when  his  friends  had  forsaken  him  and  fled,  every  man 
providing  for  his  own  safety.  Instances  of  this  kind  will  oc- 
cur in  the  course  of  this  Narrative. 

As  he  had  heard  and  read  much  of  enchantmentsnnd  enchan- 
ters, so  he  had  heard  much  of  magic  and  magicians.  Whether 
there  were  any  thing  real  in  their  pretended  science  he  could 
not  tell :  but  his  curiosity  prompted  him  strongly  to  inquire. 
He  had  heard  of  the  Occult  Philosophy  of  Cornelius  Agrippa, 
and  wonderful  tales  his  school-fellows  had  told  relative  to  this 


68 


CORNELIUS  AGRIl'PA's 


book ; — "  that  it  Avas  obliged  to  be  chained  to  a  large  block, 
else  it  would  fly,  or  be  carried  away,"  &c. 

Hearing  that  a  school-master  at  some  miles'  distance,  had  a 
copy,  he  begged  his  father  to  write  a  letter  to  the  gentleman, 
requesting  the  loan  of  the  book  for  a  few  days.  Though  he 
knew  not  the  road,  and  was  only  about  eight  years  of  age,  yet 
he  equipped  himself  for  the  journey ;  and  when  his  mother 
said,  "  Adam,  you  must  not  attempt  to  go  ;  you  will  be  lost,  for 
you  know  not  the  road,"  he  replied,  Never  fear,  mother,  I  shall 
find  it  well  enough.  "  But  you  will  be  so  weary  by  the  time 
you  get  there,  that  you  will  not  have  strength  to  return ;"  to 
which  he  answered,  Never  fear,  mother,  if  I  can  get  there  and 
get  the  booh;  I  hope  to  get  as  much  out  of  it,  as  will  bring  me 
home  without  touching  the  ground.  The  little  fellow  had 
actually  made  up  his  mind  to  return  to  his  home  on  the  back  of 
an  angel  ;  he  was  however  disappointed;  the  man  refused  to 
lend  the  book. 

This  disappointment  only  served  to  whet  and  increase  his 
curiosity :  and  an  occurrence  shortly  after  took  place,  which 
in  some  measure  crowned  his  wishes  as  to  a  sight  of  this 
book.  A  family  of  travelling  tinkers  or  iron  founders, — 
makers  of  small  iron  pots, — came  to  the  country.  It  was  currently 
reported  of  them,  that  they  were  all  conjurors  and  possessed 
some  wonderful  magical  books.  Adam  got  leave  from  his 
parents  to  visit  them.  He  found  a  man,  his  wife,  and  a  tall 
well-made  son  of  about  twenty  years  of  age,  and  several  other 
children,  two  of  whom  were  dumb,  encamped  in  a  forsaken 
house,  where,  for  the  time  being,  they  had  erected  a.  furnace 
and  were  hard  at  work.  Adam's  errand  was  soon  known,  and 
the  father,  a  very  intelligent  man,  began  to  entertain  him  with 
strange  relations  of  what  might  be  done  by  spells,  figures, 
diagrams,  letters,  fumigations,  &c.  &c.  All  this  he  heard 
with  raptures,  and  inquired  into  the  particulars  : — these  were 
sparingly  related,  and  he  was  told  to  come  the  next  day.  He 
went  accordingly,  and  was  well  received,  and  to  his  inexpres- 
sible joy,  a  copy  of  the  three  books  of  Cornelius  Agrippa's 
Occult  Philosophy  was  produced.  He  touched  it  with  fear, 
and  read  it  with  trembling,  and  asked  liberty  to  take  some 
notes,  which  was  conceded.  In  this  way,  studying,  talking, 
looking  for  simples,  and  preparing  for  operations,  he  spent 
several  days;  this  eccentric  community  cheerfully  dividing, 
with  this  indefatigable  student,  their  morsel  of  homely  fare. 
Every  night,  however,  he  returned  home ;  and  early  in  the 
morning  revisited  these  occult  philosophers.  At  length,  when 
they  had  supplied  all  the  adjacent  place  with  their  manufac- 
ture, they  removed  to  another  part  of  the  country,  entirely  out 
of  his  reach  ;  and  he  returned  laden  with  spoils,  for  such  he 
esteemed  them ;  and  having,  as  he  supposed,  the  bounds  of 
his  knowledge  considerably  enlarged.    His  instructer,  how- 


OCCULT  PHILOSOPHY. 


CO 


ever,  had  told  him  that  there  was  a  fourth  book  of  the  incom- 
parable Cornelius  Agrippa,  without  which,  as  it  contained  the 
practice  of  the  art,  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt  any  opera- 
tions. This  was  discouraging;  but  it  could  not  be  remedied, 
and  so  he  nearly  remitted  all  study  of  the  science,  as  he  was 
unacquainted  with  the  practical  part,  till  he  should  be  able  to 
meet  with  this  fourth  book. 

The  notes  which  he  took  at  this  time  were  very  imperfect, 
as  he  had  not  learned  to  write,  so  as  to  make  them  very  intel- 
ligible :  but  his  brother  copied  all  fair ;  and  by  the  help  of 
Adam's  descriptions,  made  those  little  entries  pretty  correct. 

He  was  persuaded  the  whole  was  innocent,  for  every  thing 
seemed  to  be  done  with  a  reference  to  and  dependance  upon, 
God.    By  His  terrible  name  all  spirits  were  to  be  raised,  em- 


Doth  worlds,  and  bring  about  a  friendly  intercourse  between 
disembodied  and  embodied  spirits  :  and  by  it  those  which  were 
fallen  and  wicked  were  to  be  made  the  servants  and  vassals 
of  the  good  and  holy. 

This  view  of  the  subject,  tended  greatly  to  impose  on  his 
mind ;  but  happening  about  this  time  to  read  an  answer  in  a 
book  entitled  The  Atlienian  Oracle,  to  the  question, — "Is 
that  magic  lawful  whose  operations  are  performed  in  the 
name  of  God,  and  by  solemn  invocations  of  his  power,"  &c. 
&c?  The  answer  was,  No: — for,  concerning  such  things, 
our  Lord  has  said:  Many  will  say  to  me  in  that  day,  Lord, 
Lord,  have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy  name?  And  in  thy 
name  have  cast  out  devils?  And  in  thy  name  done  many 
wonderful  works  ?  And  then  will  I  profess  unto  them,  I  never 
knew  you;  depart  from  me  ye  that  work  iniquity,  Mat.  vii. 


This  had  a  proper  effect,  and  made  him  proceed  afterwards 
with  caution  in  all  these  occult  matters:  nor  did  he  ever  at- 
tempt to  use  any  kind  of  magical  incantations. 

This  subject  has  been  treated  more  particularly  because 
many  young  minds  have  been  led  astray  by  the  promises  and 
apparent  piety  of  this  science  ;  and  have  been  thereby  plunged 
into  sorrows  and  disappointments.  So  much  of  the  fear  of 
God  had  young  Clarke  all  this  time,  that  had  he  not  been 
convinced  that  it  was  consistent  with  religion,  he  never  would 
have  bent  his  mind  to  its  study.  Many  years  after  this,  he 
investigated  this  subject  still  more  minutely  ;  and  saw  all  that 
could  be  termed  the  use  and  abuse  of  it. 

There  was,  however,  one  good  effect  produced,  by  the  re- 
port spread  in  the  neighbourhood, — that  the  young  Clarkes 
had  such  sovereign  magical  powers,  and  had  such  spells  set 
in  their  house,  garden,  and  fields,  that,  "  if  any  person  came  to 
plunder  or  steal,  he  would  be  arrested  by  the  power  of  those 
spells,  and  not  be  able  to  move  from  the  spot  in  which  he  be- 


The  science  appeared  to  connect 


22,  23. 


70 


OPINIONS  ON  HIS  EARLY  READING. 


gan  his  depredations,  till  sun-rise  the  next  morning :"  this 
secured  their  property.  Previously  to  this,  many  things  were 
stolen,  particularly  poultry;  hut  after  this,  nothing  was  ever 
taken ;  and  the  family  became  so  secure,  that  for  months 
together,  they  neither  bolted  nor  locked  their  doors ;  nor  indeed 
was  it  necessary. 

There  are  three  or  four  articles  in  the  little  library  mentioned 
above,  on  which  it  may  be  necessary  to  say  a  few  words,  be- 
cause of  the  effects  produced  by  them  on  A.  C's.  mind ;  and 
because  of  the  influence  they  had  on  his  future  life  and  studies: 
— viz.  The  Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments,  Robinson  Cru- 
soe, and  JJ Estranged  Fables  of  JEsop. 

The  reading  of  the  first  of  these  gave  him  that  decided  taste 
for  Oriental  History  which  has  been  so  very  useful  to  him  in 
all  his  biblical  studies.  He  wished  to  acquaint  himself  more 
particularly  with  a  people  whose  customs  and  manners,  both 
religious  and  civil,  were  so  strange  and  curious;  he  never  lost 
sight  of  this  till  divine  providence  opened  his  way,  and  placed 
the  means  in  his  power,  to  gain  some  acquaintance  with  the 
principal  languages  of  the  East.  This  also  will  be  noticed 
in  its  due  place. 

The  Life  and  Adventures  of  Robinson  Crusoe,  he  read  as  a 
real  history:  no  true  tale  was  ever  better  or  more  naturally 
told :  and  none,  merely  fictitious,  was  ever  told  more  impo- 
singly. No  history,  true  or  feigned,  had  ever  a  more  direct 
moral  tendency.  From  it,  he  has  often  said,  he  learned  more 
expressly  his  duty  to  God,  to  his  parents,  and  a  firmer  belief 
in  Divine  Providence,  than  from  all  he  read  or  heard  from 
books  or  men  during  his  early  years:  and  as  soon  as  they  could 
read,  he  took  care  to  put  this  work  into  the  hands  of  his  own 
children,  from  the  conviction,  that  in  it  were  combined  the  finest 
lessons,  and  maxims  of  religion  and  morality,  with  every  thing 
interesting  and  fascinating  in  historic  detail.  He  has  always 
stated  that  the  good  impressions  made  on  his  mind  by  reading 
this  work  were  never  effaced. 

With  the  Fables  of  JEsop,  and  his  Life  by  Planudes,  he 
was  always  much  delighted.  It  was  almost  one  of  the  first 
books  that  he  could  read,  and  it  was  one  of  the  last  of  his  boy- 
ish companions  that  he  relinquished.  The  little  pictures  with 
which  it  was  adorned,  were  the  means  of  attaching  his  mind, 
in  the  first  instance.  From  the  Countryman,  whose  Wagon 
had.  stuck  fast  in  the  mud,  he  learned  the  necessity  of  stre- 
nuous exertion,  while  expecting  the  Divine  succour.  He  often 
applied  the  words,  TIlou  fool!  whip  thy  horses  and  set  thy 
shoulders  to  the  wheels,  and  call  upon  Hercides,  and  he  wilt 
help  thee,  to  those  who  expected  God  by  a  miracle  to  bring 
them  out  of  their  difficulties,  while  sitting  down  in  indolence, 
and  supine  self-despair. 

The  fable  of  the  Lark  and  Young  Ones,  taught  him  the 


IRISH  MANNERS. 


71 


folly  of  expecting  that  help  from  neighbours  and friends  which 
a  man  owed  to  himself,  and  which  by  the  exertions  of  himself 
and  family,  he  could  furnish.  From  t he  fable  of  the  Farmer 
who  wished  Bain  and  Fair  Weather  in  (hose  times  which  he 
should  judge  most  proper,  and  at  harvest  time  had  no  crop, 
he  learned  the  folly  of  human  anxiety  concerning  the  weather, 
and  the  necessity  of  depending  on  divine  providence.  The 
Braggart  who  pretended  to  have  cleared  so  many  yards  at 
one  leap  in  the  Island  of  Bhodes,  shewed  him  the  vanity  of 
empty  boasting;  and  of  pretending  to  have  done  some  mighty 
feat  in  some  distant  country,  which  his  friends  were  at  liberty 
not  to  credit  till  they  had  seen  him  perform  the  same  at  home. 
The  Dog  in  the  Manger,  The  Trumpeter  taken  prisoner, 
The  sick  Kite,  The  Daw  in  borrowed  Feathers,  &c.  &c.  were 
all  to  him  lessons  of  instruction;  and  from  them  he  borrowed 
some  of  the  chief  maxims  which  governed  his  life. 

It  may  be  proper  to  give  here  some  account  how  the  pea- 
santry spend  their  long  winter's  evenings,  in  that  part  of  Ire- 
land in  which  young  Clarke  was  born  and  educated. 

The  young  people  of  the  different  families  go  night  about,  to 
each  other's  houses,  and  while  the  female  part  are  employed 
in  carding  and  spinning,  the  master  and  elder  males,  in 
weaving  linen  cloth,  and  some  of  the  smaller  children  in 
fillingthe  bobbins,  called  there  quills,  and  one  holding  the  lighted 
wooden  candle,  a  thin  lath,  split  from  a  block  of  bog  fir,  called 
there  a  split ; — a  grandfather,  grandmother,  or  some  other  aged 
person,  tells  Tales  of  other  limes  ;  chiefly  respecting  the  ex- 
ploits of  their  ancestors,  especially  of  Fion  ma  cool  (Fingal) 
and  his  family ;  and  their  wars  with  the  Danes.  Some  of 
these  tales  employ  two  or  three  hours  in  the  telling.  And  al- 
though this  custom  prevailed  long  before  any  thing  was  heard 
of  Macpherson,  and  his  Fingal  and  Ossian,  and  their  heroes  ; 
yet  similar  accounts  to  his  relations,  were  produced  in  the 
Nodes  Hibernicce  of  these  people.  It  is  true  that  in  these, 
there  were  many  wild  stories  which  are  not  found  in  Mac- 
pherson, but  the  substance  was  often  the  same.  Perhaps  this 
may  plead  something  in  favour  of  Macphersoii's  general  ac- 
curacy: he  did  not.  make  all  his  stories:  but  he  may  have 
greatly  embellished  them.  As  for  the  existence  of  epic  poems, 
in  those  times,  either  in  Ireland,  or  in  the  Scotch  Highlands, 
it  is  a  fiction  too  gross  to  be  credited :  nothing  like  these  ap- 
pear in  the  best  told  tales  of  the  most  intelligent  Shenachics  ; 
which  they  tell  as  having  received  them  from  their  fathers, 
and  they  from  their  fathers,  and  so  up  to  an  impenetrable  an- 
tiquity. A.  C.  has  been  heard  to  say  : — "  The  Gaelic  tales  are 
of  such  a  nature,  and  take  possession  of  the  heart  and  memory 
so  forcibly,  that  they  may  be  related  by  different  persons  again 
and  again,  without  omitting  any  one  material  circumstance. 
I  have  heard  some  of  these  tales,  the  telling  of  which  took  up 


72 


IRISH  TALES. 


three  full  hours,  that  I  could  repeat,  and  have  repeated  after- 


sentence.  I  have,  in  telling  such,  done  little  else  than  give  a 
verbal  relation,  only  mending  the  language,  where  it  appeared 
particularly  faulty."  But  were  those  tales,  to  which  you  refer, 
told  in  verse?  "No;  they  were  all  in  prose:  but  they  might 
have  been  originally  in  verse;  for  the  persons  who  related 
them,  translated  them  out  of  their  maternal  tongue,  which 
was  Irish,  alias  Gaelic.  I  asked  no  questions  relative  to  the 
form  in  which  they  existed  in  the  original ;  because  I  did  not 
know  that  any  thing  depended  on  it ;  lor  of  Macpherson  and 
his  Ossian,  and  the  controversy  on  that  subject,  no  man  had 
then  heard." 

In  one  of  those  tales  which  relates  to  Fion  ma  cool,  (Fin- 
gal,)  there  is  a  statement  of  his  conversion  by  the  preaching 
of  St.  Patrick.  When  the  chief  of  Erin  presented  himself  be- 
fore the  Saint,  he  found  him  very  decrepit,  and  obliged  to  sup- 
port himself  on  two  crutches,  while  he  performed  the  ceremony 
of  baptism.  When  about  to  sprinkle  the  water  upon  Fingal's 
head,  the  Saint  was  obliged  to  shift  his  ground,  in  order  to 
stand  more  commodiously  by  the  chief.  In  doing  this  he  un- 
wittingly placed  the  pike  of  his  crutch  upon  Fionas  foot :  the 
ceremony  being  ended,  when  St.  Patrick  was  about  to  move 
away,  he  found  the  end  of  his  crutch  entangled  in  the  foot  of 
the  chief,  the  pike  having  run  through  it  and  pinned  it  to  the 
ground  !  Expressing  both  his  surprise  and  regret,  he  asked 
Fingal,  "  Why  he  had  not  informed  him  of  the  mistake  at 
first  V  the  noble  chief  answered,  "  I  thought,  holy  jather,  that 
this  had  been  apart  of  the  ceremony."  He  who  could  have 
acted  so  must  have  been  truly  magnanimous,  and  sincerely 
desirous  of  becoming  a  Christian  ! 

When  work  and  tales  were  ended  the  supper  was  intro- 
duced, which  was  invariably  in  the  winter  evenings,  a  basket 
of  potatoes,  boiled,  without  being  peeled ;  and  either  a  salt 
herring,  or  a  little  milk,  mostly  butter-milk.  Immediately  after 
this  simple  repast  all  went  to  bed,  and  generally  arose  to  work 
a  considerable  time  before  day. 

In  few  parts  of  the  world  do  the  peasantry  live  a  more  in- 
dustrious and  harmless  life.  It  should  also  be  stated,  that 
sometimes,  instead  of  tales,  they  employ  themselves  with  rid- 
dles, puzzles,  and  various  trials  of  wit.  Sometimes  in  narra- 
tive and  national  songs,  among  which  are  accounts  of  foreign 
travels,  shipwrecks,  the  Battle  of  the  Boyne,  and  the  Siege 
of  Londonderry.  They  are  fond  also  of  blazoning  the  piety, 
fortitude,  noble  descent,  and  valorous  achievements  of  their 
forefathers.  Feats,  requiring  either  much  strength  or  agility 
were  frequent  exercises  for  their  young  men  in  these  social 
meetings ;  such  as  lifting  weights  ;  and,  in  moonlight  nights, 
out  of  doors,  putting  the  stone,  and  pitching  the  bar  or  iron 


wards,  in  different 


without  the  loss  of  a  single 


adam  clarke's  religious  education. 


73 


crow.  Balancing  was  a  favorite  amusement,  but  in  this  very 
few  make  much  proficiency,  because  it  requires  great  agility 
and  a  very  steady  eye.  Perhaps,  few  ever  carried  this  to 
greater  perfection  than  young  Clarke  ;  whatever  he  was  able 
to  lift  on  his  chin,  that  he  could  balance  :  iron  crows,  sledge 
hammers,  ladders,  chairs,  &c.  &c,  he  could  in  a  great  vari- 
ety of  combinations  balance  to  great  perfection  on  chin,  nose 
and  forehead.  In  short,  whatever  he  saw  done  in  this  way 
he  could  do ;  so  that  many  of  the  common  people  thought  he 
performed  these  feats  by  a  supernatural  agency.  How  much 
more  rational  and  manly  are  such  amusements  than  cards, 
dice,  or  degrading  games  of  hazard  of  any  kind  !  By  these, 
the  mind  is  debased,  and  the  meanest  and  vilest  passions  ex- 
cited, nourished  and  gratified.  By  those,  emulation,  corporeal 
strength,  agility,  &c.  are  produced  and  maintained.  The  for- 
mer may  make  poltroons  and  assassins,  but  can  never  make 
a  man,  a  friend,  or  a  hero. 


Of  his  Religious  Education,  scarcely  any  thing  has  been 
vet  spoken ;  as  it  was  not  judged  proper  to  mix  his  boyish 
operations  and  pursuits  with  matters  of  a  more  severe  and 
spiritual  cast. 

We  have  already  seen  that,  at  a  very  early  age  his  mind 
was  deeply  impressed  with  subjects  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance. This  was  not  a  transitory  impression : — his  mother 
was  a  woman  decidedly  religious :  she  was  a  Presbyterian 
of  the  old  Puritanic  school.  She  had  been  well  catechised 
in  her  youth,  and  had  read  the  Scriptures  with  great  care  and 
to  much  profit.  She  ever  placed  the  fear  of  God  before  the 
eyes  of  her  children,  caused  them  to  read  and  reverence  the 
Scriptures,  and  endeavoured  to  impress  the  most  interesting 
parts  on  their  minds.  If  they  did  wrong  at  any  time,  she 
had  recourse  uniformly  to  the  Bible,  to  strengthen  her  reproofs 
and  to  deepen  conviction.  In  these  she  was  so  conversant 
and  ready,  that  there  was  scarcely  a  delinquency,  for  the  con- 
demnation of  which  she  could  not  easily  find  a  portion.  She 
seemed  to  find  them  on  the  first  opening,  and  would  gene- 
rally say,  "  See  what  God  has  guided  my  eye  to  in  a  moment." 
Her  own  reproofs  her  children  could  in  some  measure  bear ; 
but  when  she  had  recourse  to  the  Bible,  they  wee  terrified 
out  of  measure ;  such  an  awful  sense  had  they  of  the  truth  of 
God's  Word  and  the  Majesty  of  the  Author.  One  anecdote 
will  serve  to  shew  her  manner  of  reproving,  and  the  impres- 
sion made  by  such  reproofs. 

Adam  one  day  disobeyed  his  mother,  and  the  disobedience 
was  accompanied  with  some  look  or  gesture  that  indicated 
an  undervaluing  of  her  authority.  This  was  a  high  affront ;  she 


adam  clarke's  religious  education. 


immediately  flew  to  the  Bible,  and  opened  on  these  word* 
Prov.  xxx.  17,  which  she  read  and  commented  on  in  a  most 
awful  manner : — "  The  eye  that  mocketh  at  his  father,  and 
despiseth  to  obey  his  mother,  the  ravens  of  the  valley  shall 
pick  it  out,  and  the  young  eagles  shall  cat  it."  The  poor  cul- 
prit was  cut  to  the  heart,  believing  the  words  had  been  sent 
immediately  from  heaven  :  he  went  out  into  the  field  with  a 
troubled  spirit,  and  was  musing  on  this  horrible  denunciation 
of  Divine  displeasure,  when  the  hoarse  croak  of  a  raven 
sounded  to  his  conscience  an  alarm  more  terrible  than  the  cry 
of  fire  at  midnight !  He  looked  up  and  soon  perceived  this 
most  ominous  bird,  and  actually  supposing  it  to  be  the  raven 
of  which  the  text  spoke,  coming  to  pick  out  his  eyes,  he  clap- 
ped his  hands  on  them  with  the  utmost  speed  and  trepidation, 
and  ran  towards  the  house  as  fast  as  the  state  of  his  alarm  and 
perturbation  would  admit,  that  he  might  escape  the  impending 
vengeance ! 

The  severe  creed  of  his  mother  led  her  more  frequently  to 
represent  the  Supreme  Being  as  a  God  of  justice,  than  as  the 
(iod  of  mercy:  the  consequence  was,  the  children  dreaded 
God,  and  obeyed  only  through  fear: — perhaps,  this  was  the 
only  impression  that  could  be  made,  to  awaken  conscience 
and  keep  it  awake. 

To  the  religious  instructions  of  his  mother,  her  son  ever  at- 
tributed, under  God,  that  fear  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  which 
ever  prevented  him  from  taking  pleasure  in  sin.  "  My  mo- 
ther's reproofs  and  terrors  never  left  me,"  said  lie,  "till  I 
sought  and  found  the  salvation  of  God.  And  sin  was  generally 
so  burthensome  to  me,  that  I  was  glad  to  hear  of  deliverance 
from  it.  She  taught  me  such  reverence  for  the  Bible,  that  if 
I  had  it  in  my  hand  even  for  the  purpose  of  studying  a  chapter 
in  order  to  say  it  as  a  lesson,  and  had  been  disposed  with  my 
class-fellows  to  sing,  whistle  a  tune,  or  be  facetious,  I  dared 
not  do  either  while  the  book  was  open  in  my  hands.  In  such 
cases  I  always  shut  it  and  laid  it  down  beside  me.  Who  will 
dare  to  lay  this  to  the  charge  of  superstition ."' 

We  need  not  say  that  such  a  mother  taught  her  children  to 
pray.  Each  night,  before  they  went  to  bed,  they  regularly 
kneeled  successively  at  her  knee  and  said  the  Lord's  Prayer; 
and  implored  a  blessing  on  father,  mother,  relatives,  and 
friends  :  those  who  were  six  years  old  and  upwards,  said  also 
the  Apostles''  Creed.  She  had  also  a  Morning  Prayer  and  an 
livening  Prayer,  which  she  taught  them  :  these  prayers  were 
in  verse  ;  who  was  the  author  we  know  not.  As  they  are 
simple  and  expressive,  and  well  suited  to  infant  minds,  I  shall 
insert  them  for  their  piety,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  their 
poetry. 


ADAM  CLARKE' si  KF.L1GI0U9  EDUCATION. 


75 


AN  EVENING  PRAYER,  FOR  A  YOUNG  CHILD. 

"  I      (o  my  bed  as  to  my  grave, 
And  pray  to  God  my  life  to  save. 
But  if  I  die,  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  to  God  my  soul  to  take. 
Sweet  Jesus  now,  to  thee  I  cry, 
To  grant  me  mercy  before  I  die ! 
To  grant  me  mercy,  and  send  me  grace, 
That  heaven  may  be  my  dwelling  place  !" 

A  MORNING  PRAYER,  FOR  A  YOUNG  CHILD 

"  Preserve  me,  Lord,  amidst  the  crowd, 
From  every  thought  that's  vain  and  proud  ; 
And  raise  my  wandering  mind  to  see, 
How  good  it  is  to  trust  in  thee  ! 
From  all  the  enemies  of  thy  truth, 
Do  thou,  O  Lord,  preserve  my  youth : 
And  raise  my  mind  from  worldly  cares, 
From  youthful  sins  and  youthful  snares ! 
Lord,  tho'  my  heart's  as  hard  as  stone, 
Let  seeds  of  early  grace  be  sown ; 
Still  watered  by  thy  heavenly  love, 
Till  they  spring  up  to  joys  above !" 

These  she  caused  them  to  conclude  with  the  following  short 
doxology. 

"  Give  to  the  Father  praise, 
And  glory  to  the  Son; 
And  to  the  Spirit  of  his  grace 
Be  equal  honour  done  !" 

The  xxiiird  Psalm  in  the  old  Version  she  also  taught  them 
to  repeat,  and  her  two  sons  she  caused  to  learn  and  repeat 
Psalm  exxviii. 

For  the  little  Prayers  above  mentioned,  Adam  ever  felt  a 
fond  attachment.  "They  contain,"  said  he,  "the  first  breath- 
ings of  my  mind  towards  God;  and  even  many  years  after  I 
had  known  the  power  of  God  to  my  Salvation,  I  continued  to 
repeat  them,  as  long  as  I  could  with  propriety  use  the  term 
youth." 

Every  Lord's  Day  was  strictly  sanctified;  no  manner  of  work 
was  done  in  the  family:  and  the  children  were  taught  from 
their  earliest  youth  to  sanctify  the  Sabbath.  On  that  day  she 
took  the  opportunity  to  catechise  and  instruct  her  children, 
would  read  a  chapter,  sing  a  portion  of  a  Psalm,  and  then  go 
to  prayer.  While  reading,  she  always  accustomed  the  children 
who  had  discernment,  to  note  some  particular  verse  in  the 
reading,  and  repeat  it  to  her  when  prayer  was  over.  This  en- 
gaged all  their  attention,  and  was  the  means  of  impressing  the 
word  on  their  hearts  as  well  as  on  their  memories.  She  obliged 


78 


methods  of  sraenw. 


them  also  to  get  by  heart  the  Church  Catechism,  and  the 
Shorter  Catechism  of  the  Assembly  of  Divines. 

Thus,  the  children  had  the  creed  of  their  father,  who  was  a 
Churchman,  and  the  creed  of  their  mother,  who  was  a  Pres- 
byterian; though  she  was  far  from  being  a  Calvinist.  But, 
although  they  went  occasionally  to  the  Presbyterian  meeting, 
they  all  felt  a  decided  preference  for  the  Church. 

Though  the  parents  of  A.  C.  belonged  to  different  Christian 
communities,  they  never  had  any  animosities  on  religious  sub- 
jects. The  parish  clergyman  and  the  Presbyterian  parson, 
were  equally  welcome  to  the  house  ;  and  the  husband  and 
wife  most  cheerfully  permitted  each  other  to  go  on  their  own 
way:  nor  were  any  means  used  by  either  to  determine  their 
children  to  prefer  one  community  to  the  other.  They  were 
taught  to  fear  God  and  expect  Redemption  through  the  Blood 
of  the  Cross,  and  all  other  matters  were  considered  by  their 
parents,  of  comparatively  little  moment. 

As  it  was  fashionable  as  well  as  decent  for  all  those  who  at 
tended  divine  worship  on  the  Lord's  Day  to  take  a  part  in  the 
public  singing,  (for  choirs  of  singers,  the  bane  of  this  part  of 
religious  worship,  were  not  known  in  those  times, )so  the  youth 
spent  a  part  of  the  long  winter's  evenings  in  learning  what 
was  called  sacred  music.  A  person  less  or  more  skilled  in  this 
art,  set  up  a  night  sclwol  in  some  of  the  most  populous  villages; 
and  the  young  people  attended  him  for  two  or  three  hours,  so 
many  nights  in  the  week.  All  had  books  in  which  the  same 
tunes  were  pricked;  and  each  tune  was  at  first  solfa'A,  till  it 
was  tolerably  well  learned,  and  then  sung  to  some  correspond- 
ing words.  Afterwards,  each  was  obliged  to  give  out  some 
verse  of  his  own;  and  lastly,  as  trials  of  skill,  one  made  a  line; 
by  the  time  that  was  sung,  another  was  obliged  to  find  a  line 
that  would  match  in  measure  and  meaning,  a  third  did  the 
same,  and  a  fourth  in  the  same  way  concluded  the  stanza ; 
neither  of  these  knowing  any  thingpreviously  of  the  subjecton 
whicli  he  should  be  obliged  to  compose  his  verse :  these  trials 
of  skill  often  produced  much  doggerel,  but  there  were,  not  un- 
frequently,  some  happy  lines  and  flashes  of  real  wit.  Some- 
times this  contest  lay  between  two  persons,  the  second  of  whom 
had  no  more  than  the  time  in  which  the  previous  line  was 
sung,  to  make  that  which  was  to  be  its  correspondent,  both  in 
sense  and  measure. 

This  method  of  singing  and  making  alternate  verses,  is  cer- 
tainly very  ancient;  we  may  find  tracesof  it  among  the  ancient 
Greeks  and  Romans:  and  in  Homer,  Theocritus,  and  Virgil, 
it  is  expressly  mentioned.  The  song  of  Moses,  of  Deborah 
and  Barak,  and  the  fifth  chapter  of  Isaiah,  and  other  portions 
in  the  Old  Testament,  seem  to  have  been  composed  in  the 
same  way.  Homer,  Tkeocritus,  and  Virgil,  are  direct  proofs. 
A  quotation  from  each  will  shew  that  this  humble  singing  of 


MKTHOUS  OF  SINGING.  77 

the  aboriginal  Irish  peasantry,  is  not  without  the  sanction  of  an 
illustrious  antiquity. 

'12s  tote  pff  rrpo-nav  t'lfiap  a  ijeX(ov  KaTa6vvra 
Aaivvvr''  ou<!'  en  fltifiof  ticvcTo  AatTos  fi'<"K, 
Ov  i'cv  (pupfiiyyof  mpiKviWcos,  iw  tx  AtoXXow, 
Mouo-awi'  8\  at  aciiov  n/(ti/?o/J£i"ii  oxi  KaXj. 

Iliad  I.  verse  601. 

Tims  the  blest  gods  the  genial  clay  prolong 
In  feasts  ambrosial  and  celestial  song: 
Apollo  tun'd  the  lyre :  the  Muses  round 
With  voice  alternate  aid  the  silver  sound. 

Pope. 

Thus  the  shepherds,  cowherds,  and  goatherds,  in  Theo- 
critus:— 

AXV  aye  iln,  (£vva  yap  bdog,  ^wtz  Sc  Kai  ouj) 
BoimXiaaSontcaBa-  Ta%  lorcpof  aWov  ovaaci. 

Idyll.  VII.  verse  35. 

But  let  us  carol  the  Bucolic  lay, 

Since  ours  one  common  sun,  one  common  way. 

Alternate  transport  may  our  joy  infuse. 

Polwheele. 

X'  4i  fia  natScs  aaSov,  b  6'  atm'Kof  rjflcXt  xpivai. 
'Eira  c5'  a/iot/2airji>  I'rcXa/i/Jaj'C  Amfus  aotSav 
BwKoAiitai/'  bvToi  tc  MfKaXicaj  ao(aTO  irpaTos. 

Idyll.  VIII.  verse  28. 

The  goatherd  not  unwilling  to  decide, 
As  in  alternate  songs  the  rivals  vied  ; 
They  hastened  with  contending  pipes  to  play; 
And  first  Menalcas  breathed  the  rural  lay. 

Polwheele. 

Virgil  mentions  the  alternate  singing,  and  gives  a  reason 
for  it,  which  he  appears  to  have  borrowed  from  Homer: — 

Incipe,  Dammta :  tu  dcinde  scquere,  Menalca. 
Altcrnis  dicetis:  amant  alterna  Camena. 

Eclog.  III.  verse  58. 

The  challenge  to  Damcetas  shall  belong; 
Menalcas  shall  sustain  his  under  song  ; 
Each  in  his  turn,  your  tuneful  numbers  bring  ; 
By  turns,  the  tuneful  Muses  love  to  sing. 

Dryden. 

It  may  be  added,  that  their  sacred  tunes  were  few,  very 
fiat,  and  mostly  of  common  and  long  measure;  and  probably 
of  Scottish  extraction.  Tunes  entitled  French,  London,  York; 
Abbey,  Elgin,  Dumfries,  Newton,  Dublin,  &c,  &c,  and  the 
Old  Hundredth  Psalm,  were  some  of  the  chief :  and  one  or 
other  of  these  tunes  might  be  heard  in  every  church  and  meet- 
ing-house through  a  whole  district  or  county  on  the  Lord's 
Day. 

7* 


IB 


IHISH  SINGING. 


The  Irish  Papists  used  no  singing  in  that  part  of  the  coun 
try,  in  their  mass-houses.  Their  singing  was  chiefly  confined 
to  funeral  occasions  ;  and  seems  to  be  the  simple  remains  of 
an  exceedingly  remote  antiquity  ;  and  to  have  been  of  Asiatic 
extraction ;  as  the  manner  in  which  it  was  performed  by  the 
ancient  Jews,  appears  to  be  precisely  the  same  with  that  in 
which  it  is  performed  by  the  present  Irish  Papists,  the  des- 
cendants of  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  this  country. 

The  Caoinian,  Irish  howl,  or  Irish  cry,  as  some  term  it, 
has  been  much  spoken  of,  but  is  little  understood.  It  is  a 
species  of  the  alternate  music  already  referred  to;  and  was 
generally  practised  among  the  Papists  in  Dr.  Clarke's  youth  ; 
and  he  himself  has  been  often  present  at  it :  it  was  then  in  a 
state  of  less  perfection  than  it  had  been,  and  now  is  falling  into 
entire  disuse.  The  priests  having  displaced  it,  by  their  strong 
recommendation  of  the  Gregorian  Chant. 

Mr.  Beauford,  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Irish  Aca- 
demy, gives  a  good  account  of  it : — 

"  The  body  of  the  deceased,  dressed  in  grave-clothes,  and 
ornamented  with  flowers,  and  odoriferous  herbs,  was  usually 
placed  on  a  table  or  elevated  place.  The  relations  and  the 
Caioniers,  i.  e.  the  persons  who  sung  the  funeral  songs  and 
lamentations,  ranged  themselves  in  two  divisions,  one  at  the 
head,  and  the  other  at  the  feet  of  the  corpse. 

"  The  Bards  and  Croteries,  i.  e.  those  who  composed  the 
songs,  and  related  the  genealogy,  &c,  of  the  deceased,  hav- 
ing before  prepared  the  funeral  Caionian,  the  chief  bard  of 
the  head,  chorus  began,  by  singing  the  first  stanza,  in  a  low 
doleful  tune,  which  was  softly  accompanied  by  the  harp ;  at 
ihe  conclusion,  the  last  semi-chorus  began  the  lamentation,  or 
idlaloo,  from  the  final  note  of  the  preceding  stanza,  in  which 
they  were  answered  by  the  head  semi-chorus,  and  then  both 
united  in  one  general  chorus. 

"  The  chorus  of  the  first  stanza  being  ended,  the  chief  bard 
of  the  first  semi-chorus  sang  the  second  stanza,  the  strain  of 
which  was  taken  from  the  concluding  note  of  the  preceding 
chorus  ;  which  being  ended,  the  liead  semi-chorus  began  the 
gol,  or  lamentations,  in  which  they  were  answered  by  that  of 
the  foot ;  and  then  as  before,  both  united  in  the  general  full 
chorus.  And  thus  alternately,  were  the  song  and  choruses 
performed  during  the  night. 

"  The  genealogy,  rank,  possessions,  virtues,  and  vices,  of 
the  deceased,  were  rehearsed  ;  and  a  number  of  interrogations 
were  addressed  to  the  dead  person ;  as  '  Why  did  he  die  ?' 
If  married,  '  Whether  his  wife  was  faithful  to  him  :  his  sons 
dutiful,  and  good  warriors  V  If  a  matron,  '  Whether  her 
daughter  were  fair  or  chaste  V  If  a  young  man,  '  Whether 
he  had  been  crossed  in  love  V  or  '  If  the  blue  eyed  maids  of 
Erin  treated  him  with  scorn  ?'  &c,  &c. 


THOUGHTS  ON  DANCING. 


58 


''  Each  versicle  of  the  Caoinian  consisted  only  of  four  feet, 
and  each  foot  was  commonly  of  two  syllables :  the  three  first 
required  no  correspondence,  but  the  fourth  was  to  correspond 
with  the  terminations  of  the  other  versicles." 

The  music-master  whose  lessons  A.  C.  attended,  willing  to 
stand  on  at  least  equal  ground  with  all  his  competitors,  and  to 
secure  a  competent  number  of  scholars,  proposed  that  he  would 
divide  the  usual  hours  into  two  parts,  teach  singing  in  the 
former  part,  and  dancing  in  the  other.  This  brought  him 
several  additional  scholars,  and  his  school  went  on  much  to 
bis  own  advantage.  At  first  Adam  despised  this  silly  adjunct 
to  what  he.  had  always  deemed  of  great  importance;  and  for  a 
considerable  time  took  no  part  in  it ;  as  it  appeared  little  else 
than  a  mad  freak,  as  long  as  it  lasted.  At  length,  through 
considerable  persuasion,  his  steadfastness  was  overcome;  by 
long  looking,  it  began  to  appear  harmless ;— by  and  bye  graceful, 
and  lastly  an  elegant  accomplishment !  It  was  now,  cast  in 
your  lot  with  us :  he  did  so  ;  and  as  it  was  always  a  maxim 
with  him  to  do  whatever  he  did  with  his  might ;  he  bent  much 
of  his  attention  to  this,  and  soon  became  superior  to  most  of 
his  school-fellows.  Formerly  he  went  to  the  school  for  the 
sake  of  the  singing, — now  he  went  most  for  the  sake  of  the 
dancing:  leaving  his  understanding  uninfluenced,  it  took 
fast  hold  of  his  passions.  If  prevented  at  any  time  from  going, 
he  felt  uneasy,  sometimes  vexed,  and  often  what  is  called 
cross:  his  temper  in  such  cases,  being  rarely  under  his  own 
control. 

His  own  opinion  of  the  whole  of  this  business  may  be  best 
told  in  his  own  words.  "  Mala.  Ave,  when  about  12  or  13 
years  of  age,  I  learned  to  dance.  I  long  resisted  all  solicita- 
tions to  this  employment,  bat  at  last  I  suffered  myself  to  be 
overcome  ;  and  learnt,  and  profited  beyond  most  of  my  fellows. 
I  grew  passionately  fond  of  it,  would  scarcely  walk  but  in 
measured,  time,  and  was  constantly  tripping,  moving,  and 
shuffling,  in  all  times  and  places.  I  began  now  to  value  my- 
self, which,  as  far  as  I  can  recollect,  I  had  never  thought  of 
before  ;  I  grew  impatient  of  control,  was  fond  of  company, 
wished  to  mingle  more  than  I  had  ever  done,  with  young 
people ;  I  got  also  a  passion  for  better  clothing,  than  that 
which  fell  to  my  lot  in  life,  was  discontented  when  I  found  a 
neighbour's  son  dressed,  better  than  myself.  I  lost  the  spirit 
of  subordination,  did  not  love  work,  imbibed  a  spirit  of  idle- 
ness, and  in  short,  drunk  in  all  the  brain-sickening  effluvia  of 
pleasure  ;  dancing  and  company  took  the  place  of  reading 
and  study ;  and  the  authority  of  my  parents  was  feared  in- 
deed, but  not  respected ;  and  few  serious  impressions  could 
prevail  in  a  mind  imbued  now  with  frivolity,  and  the  love  of 
pleasure;  yet  I  entered  into  no  disreputable  assembly,  and  in 
no  one  case,  ever  kept  any  improper  company  ;  I  formed  no 


80 


THOUGHTS  ON  DANCING. 


illegal  connection,  nor  associated  with  any  whose  characters 
were  either  tarnished  or  suspicious.  Nevertheless,  dancing 
was  to  nie  a  perverting  influence,  an  unmixed  moral  evil : 
for  although  hy  the  mercy  of"  God,  it  led  me  not  to  depravity 
of  manners,  it  greatly  weakened  me  moral  principle,  drowned 
the  voice  of  a  well  instructed  conscience,  and  was  the  first 
cause  of  impelling  me  to  seek  my  happiness  in  this  life. 
Every  thing  yielded  to  the  disposition  it  had  produced,  and 
every  thing  was  absorbed  by  it.  I  have  it  justly  in  abhorrence 
for  the  moral  injury  it  did  me ;  and  I  can  testify,  (as  far  as 
my  own  observations  have  extended,  and  they  have  had  a 
pretty  wide  range,)  I  have  known  it  to  produce  the  same  evil 
in  others  that  it  produced  in  me.  I  consider  it  therefore,  as  a 
branch  of  that  worldly  education,  which  leads  from  heaven  to 
earth,  from  things  spiritual  to  things  sensual,  and  from  God 
to  Satan.  Let  them  plead  for  it  who  will ;  I  know  it  to  be 
evil,  and  that  only.  They  who  bring  up  their  children  in 
this  way,  or  send  them  to  those  schools  where  dancing  is 
taught,  are  consecrating  them  to  the  service  of  Moloch,  and 
cultivating  the  passions,  so  as  to  cause  them  to  bring  forth 
the  weeds  of  a  fallen  nature,  with  an  additional  rankness, 
deep  rooted  inveteracy,  and  inexhaustible  fertility.  Nemo 
sobrius  saltat,  'no  man  in  his  senses  will  dance,'  said  Cicero, 
a  heathen  :  shame  on  those  Christians  who  advocate  a  cause 
by  which  many  sons  have  hecome  profligate,  and  many 
daughters  have  been  ruined."  Such  was  the  experience  of 
A.  Clarke  in  dancing,  and  such  was  his  opinion  of  the 
practice.  Against  this  branch  of  fashionable  education  he, 
on  all  proper  occasions,  lifted  up  his  voice.  Many  years 
after  this  he  wrote  a  paper  on  the  subject,  which  was  inserted 
in  vol.  xv.  of  the  Arminian  Magazine  ;  this  was  in  conse- 
quence of  an  attempt  made  to  bring  it  into  the  boarding 
schools  of  the  Methodists.  Under  the  influence  of  this  de- 
praving practice,  A.  C.  did  not  long  continue  :  in  less  than 
two  years  it  began  and  terminated  with  him. 

It  was  now  high  time  to  think  of  casting  his  lot  for  life.  At 
first  he  Avas  designed  for  the  Ministry  ;  and  lie  himself  wished 
it,  without  knowing  what  he  desired.  But  the  circumstances 
of  the  family,  there  being  now  seven  children,  two  sons  and 
five  daughters,  rendered  it  impracticable  to  maintain  him  at 
one  of  the  Universities.  That  scheme  therefore  was  dropped  ; 
and  his  parents  next  proposed  to  place  him  with  a  Surgeon 
and  Apothecary  of  their  acquaintance  :  this  purpose  also  mis- 
carried, when  just  on  the  eve  of  completion  ;  and,  as  his  bro- 
ther had  about  this  time  finished  his  apprenticeship,  and  gone 
to  sea,  the  family  began  to  think  that  it  would  be  best  for  them 
to  retain  at  home,  this,  their  only  remaining  son,  that  he 
might  assist  his  father  in  the  school,  and  succeed  him  when  it 
should  please  God  to  render  him  unfit  for  the  employment.  This 


ACCIDENTS. 


61 


was  no  lure  to  Ailam's  mind ;  lie  saw  plainly  that  his  father 
had  much  trouble,  with  great  labour  and  anxiety,  for  very  small 
gains.  And  besides,  it  was  not  a  line  of  life  for  which  he  had 
ever  felt  any  predilection.  How  his  lot  was  afterwards  de- 
termined will  shortly  appear. 

It  may  be  necessary  in  this  place  to  mention  two  accidents, 
both  of  which  had  very  nearly  proved  fatal  to  young  Clarke. 
Having  occasion  to  bring  home  a  sack  of  grain  from  a  neigh- 
bouring village ;  it  was  laid  over  the  bare  back  of  his  horse, 
and  to  keep  it  steady,  he  rode  on  the  top  ;  one  end  being  much 
heavier  than  the  other,  he  found  it  difficult  to  keep  it  on:  at 
last  it  preponderated  so  much,  that  it  fell,  and  he  under  it ;  his 
back  happened  to  come  in  contact  with  a  pointed  stone :  he 
was  taken  up  apparently  dead  ;  a  person  attempted  to  draw 
some  blood  from  his  arm,  but  in  vain,  none  would  flow,  and 
his  face,  neck,  &c.  turned  quite  black.  He  lay  insensible  for 
more  than  two  hours,  during  the  greater  part  of  which  time,  he 
was  not  known  even  to  breathe,  so  that  all  said  he  is  dead. 
He  was  brought  near  the  fire  and  rubbed  with  warm  cloths  ; 
at  length  a  plenteous  flow  of  blood  from  the  orifice  in  his  arm, 
was  the  means  of  promoting  that  respiration  which  had  been 
so  long  obstructed.  All  had  given  him  over  for  dead,  and 
even  now  that  he  began  to  breathe,  but  with  an  oppressive 
sense  of  the  acutest  pain,  few  entertained  hopes  that  he  could 
long  survive  this  accident.  In  about  24  hours  it  was  thought 
that  he  might  in  an  easy  chair  be  carried  home,  which  was  about 
a  mile  distant.  He  however  utterly  refused  to  get  into  the 
chair,  but  while  the  men  carried  it,  held  it  with  his  right  hand, 
and  walked  by  its  side,  and  thus  reached  his  father's  house  ; 
and  in  a  short  time,  to  the  great  surprise  of  all  who  had  wit- 
nessed the  accident,  was  completely  restored.  Had  he  not 
been  designed  for  matters  of  great  and  high  importance,  it  is 
not  likely  in  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  he  could  have  sur- 
vived this  accident. 

The  second  accident  had  like  to  have  proved  completely  fa- 
tal, because  it  happened  where  he  could  have  no  succour.  At 
this  time  his  father  had  removed  to  the  vicinity  of  Coleraine, 
in  the  parish  of  Agherton,  very  near  that  beautiful  strand, 
where  the  river  Ban  empties  itself  into  the  Deucaledonian 
Sea.  One  morning,  as  was  sometimes  his  custom,  he  rode  a 
mare  of  his  father's  into  the  sea  to  bathe  her ;  the  sea  was 
comparatively  calm,  the  morning  very  fine,  and  he  thought  he 
might  ride  beyond  the  breakers,  as  the  shore  in  that  place  was 
remarkably  smooth  and  flat.  The  mare  went  with  great  re- 
luctance, and  plunged  several  times ;  he  urged  her  forwards, 
and  at  last  he  srot  beyond  the  breakers  into  the  swells.  A  ter- 
rible swell  coming,  from  which  it  was  too  late  to  retreat, 
overwhelmed  both  the  horse  and  its  rider.  There  was  no 
person  in  sight,  and  no  help  at  hand  :  the  description  which 


82 


DEATH  BV  DROWNING. 


he  afterwards  gave  will  be  best  knoAvn  from  his  own 
words. 

"Tn  company  one  day  with  the  late  Dr.  Letsom,  of  Lon- 
don, the  conversation  turning  on  the  resuscitation  of  persons 
apparently  dead  from  drowning;  Dr.  L.  said,  'Of  all  that  1 
have  seen  restored,  or  questioned  afterwards  ;  I  never  found 
one  who  had  the  smallest  recollection  of  any  thing  that  passed 
from  the  moment  they  went  under  water,  till  the  time  in  which 
they  were  restored  to  life  and  thought.'  Dr.  Clarke  answered, 
'  Dr.  L.,  I  knew  a  case  to  the  contrary.'  '  Did  you  indeed  V 
'  Yes,  Dr.  L.,  and  the  case  was  my  own:  I  Avas  once  drown- 
ed,'— and  then  I  related  the  circumstances ;  and  added,  '  1 
saw  my  danger,  but  thought  the  mare  would  swim,  and  J 
knew  I  could  ride ;  when  we  were  both  overwhelmed,  it  ap- 
peared to  me  that  I  had  gone  to  the  bottom  with  my  eyes 
open.  At  first  I  thought  I  saAV  the  bottom  clearly,  and  then 
felt  neither  apprehension  nor  pain ; — on  the  contrary,  I  felt 
as  if  I  had  been  in  the  most  delightful  situation  :  my  mind 
was  tranquil,  and  uncommonly  happy ;  I  felt  as  if  in  Para- 
dise, and  yet  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  saw  any  person  ;  the 
impressions  of  happiness  seemed  not  to  be  derived  from  any 
thing  around  me,  but  from  the  state  of  my  mind ;  and  yet  1 
had  a  general  apprehension  of  pleasing  objects ;  and  I  cannot 
recollect  that  any  thing  appeared  defined,  nor  did  my  eye  take 
in  any  object,  only  I  had  a  general  impression  of  a  green  co- 
lour, such  as  of  fields  or  gardens  ;  but  my  happiness  did  not 
arise  from  these,  but  appeared  to  consist  merely  in  the  tran- 
quil, indescribably  tranquil,  state  of  my  mind.  By  and  bye 
I  seemed  to  awake  as  out  of  a  slumber,  and  felt  unutterable 
pain,  and  difficulty  of  breathing  ;  and  now  I  found  I  had  been 
carried  by  a  strong  wave,  and  left  in  very  shallow  water  upon 
the  shore  ;  and  the  pain  I  felt  was  occasioned  by  the  air  once 
more  inflating  my  lungs,  and  producing  respiration.  How 
long  I  had  been  under  water  I  cannot  tell :  it  may  however 
be  guessed  at.  by  this  circumstance : — when  restored  to  the 
power  of  reflection,  I  looked  for  the  mare,  and  saw  her  walk- 
ing leisurely  down  shore  towards  home  ;  then  about  half  a 
mile  distant  from  the  place  where  ice  were  sidmerged.  Now 
I  aver,  1.  That  in  being  drowned,  / felt  no  pain.  2.  That  I 
did  not  for  a  single  moment  lose  my  consciousness.  3.  I  felt 
indescribably  happy,  and  though  dead,  as  to  the  total  suspen- 
sion of  all  the  functions  of  life,  yet  I  felt  no  pain  in  dyincr : 
and  I  take  for  granted  from  this  circumstance,  that  those  who 
die  by  drowning,  feel  no  pain;  and  that  probably,  it  is  the 
easiest  of  all  deaths.  4.  That  I  felt  no  pain  till  once  more 
exposed  to  the  action  of  the  atmospheric  air ;  and  then  I  felt 
^rcat  pain  and  anguish  in  returning  to  life  j  which  anguish, 
had  I  continued  under  water,  I  should  have  never  felt.  5. 
That  animation  must  have  been  totally  suspended  from  the 


ATTEMPTED  ROBBERY'. 


83 


time  I  must  have  been  under  water :  which  time  might  be  in 
some  measure  ascertained  by  the  distance  the  mare  was  from 
the  place  of  my  submersion,  which  was  at  least  half  a  mile, 
and  she  was  not,  when  I  fust  observed  her,  making  any  speed. 
6.  Whether  there  were  any  thing  preternatural  in  my  escape, 
I  cannot  tell :  or  whether  a  ground  swell  had  not  in  a  merely 
natural  way  borne  me  to  the  shore,  and  the  retrocession  of 
the  tide,  (for  it  was  then  ebbing.)  left  me  exposed  to  the  open 
air,  I  cannot  tell.  My  preservation  might  have  been  the  ef- 
fect of  natural  causes  ;  and  yet  it  appears  to  be  more  rational 
to  attribute  it  to  a  superior  agency.  Here  then,  Dr.  L.,  is  a 
case  widely  different,  it  appears,'  from  those  you  have  wit- 
nessed :  and  which  argues  very  little  for  the  modish  doctrine 
of  the  materiality  oftlie  soul.''  Dr.  Letsom  appeared  puzzled 
with  this  relation,  but  did  not  attempt  to  make  any  remarks 
on  it.  Perhaps  the  subject  itself  may  not  be  unworthy  of  the 
consideration  of  some  of  our  minute  philosophers." 

I  shall  relate  two  other  remarkable  accidents  which  occurred 
in  his  neighbourhood  about  this  time. 

A  neighbouring  farmer,  Mr.  David  Reed,  had  the  reputation 
in  the  country  of  being  extremely  rich.  Several  attempts  had 
been  made  to  rob  his  house,  but  they  had  all  failed.  At  last  a 
servant,  who  had  lately  lived  with  him,  and  knew  the  way  of 
the  house,  plotted  with  one  Cain,  a  cooper,  and  one  Digny, 
a  schoolmaster,  and  a  fellow  of  the  name  of  M'Henry,  to  rob 
the  house  on  a  Sabbath  evening.  Neither  of  them  lived  in  that 
neighbourhood :  they  rendezvoused  in  a  town  called  Garvagh. 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  place,  where  they  purchased 
a  couple  of  candles.  They  left  that  about  eleven  o'clock  at 
night,  and  concealed  themselves  somewhere  in  the  fields,  till 
about  two  in  the  morning.  They  then  came  to  the  house  and 
had  a  consultation,  which  was  the  best  method  of  entering. — 
At  first  they  got  a  long  ladder  and  reared  it  against  the  house, 
intending  to  strip  off  some  of  the  thatch  above  the  kitchen,  and 
enter  that  way,  as  there  was  no  flooring  above  it.  This  they 
afterwards  gave  up  as  too  tedious,  and  likely  to  lead  to  a  dis- 
covery. They  were  now  about  to  abandon  their  design,  when 
Digny,  a  man  of  desperate  courage,  upbraided  them  with  cow- 
ardice; and  said,  "  Will  you  resign  an  enterprise  in  which  you 
are  likely  to  acquire  so  large  a  booty,  because  there  appear  to 
be  some  difficulties  in  the  way?"  After  a  little  parley,  they 
came  to  the  resolution  to  take  the  house  by  storm,  and  Digny 
agreed  to  enter  first,  by  suddenly  dashing  the  kitchen  window 
to  pieces.  He  stripped  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  tied  a  garter 
round  each  arm  to  confine  his  shirt,  one  about  each  knee  to 
render  him  more  firm,  and  one  round  his  waist,  in  which  he 
stuck  his  pistols,  and  tied  a  handkerchief  over  his  face,  with 
three  holes  cut  in  it,  one  for  his  mouth  and  two  for  his  eyes. 
He  then,  in  a  moment,  dashed  the  window  to  pieces,  passed 


84 


ATTEMPTED  KOBBEKY. 


through  it,  and  leaped  down  from  the  sill,  and  though  he  alight 
ed  on  a  spinning-wheel,  and  broke  it  in  pieces,  yet  he  did  not 
stumble  !  He  flew  in  a  moment  to  the  door,  unlocked  it,  and 
let  two  of  the  gang  in,  the  fourth,  Ml  Henry,  standing  without 
as  sentry.  The  lock  being  a  very  good  one,  the  bolt  went  back 
with  so  loud  a  noise  as  to  awaken  Mr.  Reed,  who  lay  in  a 
room  off  the  kitchen,  on  the  same  floor.  A  young  man  of  the 
name  of  Kennedy,  a  servant  in  the  family,  lay  in  a  room  next 
to  that  of  his  master,  only  separated  from  it  by  a  narrow  pass- 
age, which  divided  two  sets  of  rooms  on  the  right  and  left. — 
Cooper  Cain,  and  the  other  accomplice,  went  immediately  to 
the  fire,  which  being  in  that  country  formed  of  turf  was  raked 
up  in  its  own  ashes,  and  began  t^  pull  out  the  coals  in  order  to 
light  their  candle.  Mr.  Reed  having  been  awakened  as  before 
related,  jumped  out  of  bed,  ran  up  the  passage  towards  the 
kitchen,  and  cried  out  "Who  is  there?"  Digny,  who  was 
standing  ready  with  his  hanger  drawn,  waiting  for  the  light, 
which  the  others  were  endeavoring  to  procure,  hearing  the 
voice,  made  a  blow  at  the  place  whence  it  came,  but  did  not  see 
that  the  old  man  had  not  yet  passed  through  the  door  into  the 
kitchen ;  the  hanger  caught  the  bricks  above  the  door  head, 
broke  out  more  than  a  pound  weight  off  one  of  them,  above  the 
lintel,  slided  down,  and  laid  Mr.  Reed's  right  cheek  open  from 
the  eye  to  the  lower  jaw.  Had  he  been  six  inches  more  ad- 
vanced the  blow  would  have  cleft  his  head  in  two.  The  old 
man  feeling  himself  wounded,  sprang  desperately  forward  and 
seized  the  assassin,  who  immediately  dropped  his  hanger, 
which  he. could  no  longer  use,  (for  Mr.  Reed,  who  was  a  pow- 
erful man,  had  seized  him  by  both  his  arms,)  closed  in  and 
grappled  with  Mr.  R.  Kennedy,  who  had  been  awake  even 
before  the  window  was  broken,  arose,  and  while  his  master 
and  Digny  were  struggling  in  the  passage,  got  past  them, 
went  into  the  kitchen  where  a  charged  gun  was  hanging  on 
hooks  high  up  on  the  wall,  ascended  a  large  chest,  seized  th< 
gun,  which  he  not  being  able  to  get  readily  out  of  the  hooks, 
with  a  desperate  pull  brought  the  hook  out  of  the  wall,  descend- 
ed from  the  chest,  squeezed  by  his  master  and  the  assassin, 
still  struggling  in  the  passage,  cocked  it,  and  was  going  tome, 
but  could  not  discern  his  master  from  the  robber.  With  great 
presence  of  mind  he  delayed  till  Cam  and  his  confederate 
having  succeeded  in  lighting  their  candle,  (which  they  found 
very  difficult,  not  having  a  match,)  he  was  able  to  discern  be- 
tween his  master  and  Digny.  In  that  moment  he  fired,  and 
shot  the  latter  through  the  heart,  who  instantly  fell,  and  Mr. 
Reed  on  the  top  of  him.  Kennedy  having  discharged  his  piece, 
immediately  cried  out,  "  I  have  shot  one  of  them,  hand  me  the 
other  gun."  Cain  and  his  accomplice  hearing  the  report,  and 
seeing  what  was  done,  immediately  extinguished  their  candle, 
issued  out  at  the  door,  and  they  and  M'Henry  fled  for  their  lives. 


ATTEMPTED  ROIiBEKY. 


85 


Though  il  has  taken  some  time  to  describe  the  circumstances 
of  this  transaction,  yet  the  Reader  must  not  imagine  that 
much  time  had  elapsed  from  the  forcible  entry  till  the  death  of 
Digny.  All  these  circumstances  were  crowded  into  two  or 
three  minutes.  Kennedy  then  flew  to  the  door,  relocked  it, 
threw  chairs,  tables,  &c.  against  it  and  the  window,  reloaded 
his  gun,  into  which  in  his  hurry,  he  put  nearly  eleven  inches 
of  powder  and  shot,  and  stood  ready  to  meet  another  attack. 

But  who  can  describe  the  horrors  of  this  family,  expecting 
every  moment  a  more  powerful  assault,  none  daring  to  go  out, 
or  open  the  door  to  seek  for  help,  the  house  being  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  rest  of  the  village  !  There  were  in  the  house, 
only  Mr.  Reed,  an  aged,  infirm  sister,  a  little  boy,  and  Kennedy 
the  servant  man.  Mr.  Reed,  partly  with  the  alarm,  partly 
with  the  wound  and  consequent  loss  of  blood,  was  reduced  to 
great  weakness,  and  his  mind  became  so  disturbed  that  he 
could  scarcely  believe  the  slain  assassin  who  lay  on  the  floor, 
was  not  his  own  servant  Kennedy  who  had  been  shot  by  the 
robber. 

At  length  after  several  hours  of  the  deepest  anxiety,  daylight 
returned,  and  brought  assurance  and  confidence  to  this  distress- 
ed family.  The  issue  of  this  business  was,  M' Henry  turned 
king's  evidence,  and  the  old  servant  was  taken  and  handed  ; 
but  Cooper  Cain  fled,  and  was  never  heard  of  more.  Digny 
was  buried  like  a  dog  without  coffin,  &c.  in  the  church-yard, 
but  afterwards  had  an  untimely  resurrecction.  One  of  A.  C.'s 
school-fellows,  who  was  then  apprentice  to  a  surgeon,  came 
with  a  fellow-apprentice  to  the  grave-yard  after  night,  dug  him 
up,  put  him  in  a  sack,  laid  him  across  a  horse,  one  of  them 
riding  behind  to  hold  him  on,  and  thus  carried  him  to  Cole- 
raine,  a  distance  of  twelve  miles,  which  they  reached  before 
daylight ;  and  taking  him  to  the  market-house,  one  of  the  sur- 
geons, Mr.  Ellison,  opened  him  and  gave  the  young  men  a 
lecture  on  the  subject  in  general;  after  which  he  was  buried 
at  the  foot  of  the  rampart.  Kennedy  got  forty  pounds  at  the 
county  assizes :  his  master  put  him  to  school  for  a  time,  and  it 
was  naturally  supposed,  that  as  he  had  no  child  he  would  pro- 
vide for  him  during  life,  but  Mr.  R.  died  soon  after  and  left 
his  preserver  nothing! 

There  was  a  circumstance  in  the  case  worthy  of  remark: 
Mr.  R.  had  lent  his  gun  to  a  man  who  lived  several  miles  off: 
on  Saturday  evening,  Kennedy  asked  liberty  from  his  master 
to  go  and  bring  home  the  gun,  which  was  with  difficulty 
granted.  Had  not  the  gun  been  brought  home  that  night, 
there  is  no  doubt  the  house  would  not  only  have  been  robbed, 
but  every  soul  murdered ;  as  it  was  evident  they  had  intended 
to  leave  no  person  alive  to  tell  tales. 

The  second  instance  I  have  to  relate,  was  still  more  melan- 
choly.   An  equestrian  came  to  that  country,  and  performed 


86 


FATALITIES,  OMENS, 


several  remarkable  feats  of  horsemanship.  He  could  manage 
the  wildest  horses ;  and  permitted  people  to  fire  off  guns  and 
pistols  while  practising  the  most  dangerous  positions.  He  had 
appointed  a  day  to  perform  in  a  large  open  field  ;  multitudes 
went  to  see  him,  and  many  fired  off  guns  during  the  ex- 
hibition. A  nephew  of  the  same  Mr.  Reed  was  on  the 
ground,  and  had  the  same  gun  with  him  with  which  Digny 
was  shot.  He,  supposing  that  it  had  been  discharged  and 
charged  again  with  powder  only,  (whereas  it  had  a  heavy 
charge  of  duck-shot,)  fired  low  near  the  horse's  side,  as  the 
equestrian  rode  by  in  that  part  of  the  ring.  Lieutenant  Ste- 
phen Church,  A.  C.'s  brother,  and  Mr.  William  Clark,  one  of 
his  school-fellows,  standing  together  in  the  opposite  side  of  the 
ring,  the  principal  part,  of  the  charge  entered  the  Lieutenant's 
right  leg,  and  tore  it  almost  to  pieces.  Several  shot  entered 
one  of  the  legs  of  Mr.  W.  Clark,  and  A.  C.'s  brother  had  his 
shoe  ploughed  in  several  places,  by  the  shot,  but  he  was  not 
wounded.  A  mortification  taking  place,  the  leg  was  amputated 
in  a  very  unskilful  manner,  and  the  Lieutenant  shortly  after 
died.  What  was  very  remarkable  in  this  case  was ;  Lieut. 
C.  had  lived  what  was  called  a  gay,  that  is,  a  worldly,  cure- 
less, life ;  without,  apparently,  any  sense  of  religion:  from 
the  moment  he  was  wounded,  he  laid  his  eternal  interests 
most  deeply  to  heart ;  and  spent  the  interval  between  the  ac- 
cident and  his  death,  which  was  some  weeks,  in  deeply  mourn- 
ing for  past  errors,  and  in  incessant  prayer  for  redemption 
through  the  Friend  of  sinners. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  that,  that  gun,  which  was  esteemed 
the  lest  in  the  neighbourhood,  had  killed  Digny,  killed  Lieut. 
Church,  and  killed  a  nephew  of  Mr.  Reed's ; — he  was  found 
in  a  field,  where  he  had  gone  out  on  a  fowling  excursion,  lying 
against  a  bank,  his  brains  blown  out,  and  the  gun  lying  by  his 
side  !  This  circumstance  would  have  served  for  a  place  in  the 
Mistdlaides  of  Sir  John  Aubrey,  who  might  suppose  that  fa- 
talities were  attached  to  particular  instruments,  as  well  as  to 
particular  places  and  limes. 

Shortly  after  Lieutenant  Church  received  his  wound,  his 
brother,  George  Church,  Esq.,  a  gentleman  of  very  large 
estates,  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  horse.  Previously  to  these 
two  disasters,  strange  noises  were  heard  in  the  mansion- 
housf;  called  the  Grove.  The  doors  were  said  to  have  opened 
and  shut  of  themselves  ;  sometimes  all  the  pewter  dishes,  &<■. 
on  the  dresser  in  the  kitchen,  were  so  violently  agitated  as  lo 
appear  to  have  been  thrown  down  on  the  floor,  though  no- 
thing was  moved  from  its  place.  Sometimes  heavy  treading 
was  "heard  where  no  human  being  was  ;  and  often,  as  if  a 
person  had  fallen  at  whole  length  on  the  floor,  above  the 
kitchen  !  A.  C.  sat  up  one  whole  night  in  that  kitchen,  dur- 
ing Lieut.  Church's  indisposition,  and  most  distinctly  heard 


FAIRIES  ETC. 


H7 


the  above  noises,  shortly  before  Mr.  G.  Church  was  killed  by 
the  fall  from  his  horse.  After  the  death  of  the  two  brothers, 
these  noises  were  heard  no  more  !  What  was  the  cause  of 
the  noises  was  never  discovered. 

While  on  the  subject  of  omens,  it  may  not  be  improper  to 
notice  the  opinion  concerning  Fairies,  then  so  prevalent  in 
that  country.  It  is  really  astonishing  how  many  grave,  sober, 
sensible,  and  even  religious  people,  have  united  in  asserting 
the  fact  of  their  existence  !  and  even  from  their  own  personal 
knowledge,  as  having  seen,  or  heard,  or  conversed  with  them  ! 
At  a  near  neighbour's,  according  to  the  report  of  the  family, 
was  their  principal  rendezvous  in  that  country.  The  good 
woman  of  the  house  declared  in  the  most  solemn  manner  to 
Mrs.  Clarke,  that  a  number  of  those  gentle  people,  as  she 
termed  them,  occasionally  frequented  her  house  ;  that  they 
often  conversed  with  her,  one  of  them  putting  its  hands  on 
her  eyes,  during  the  time,  which  hands  she  represented,  from 
the  sensation  she  had,  to  be  about  the  size  of  those  of  a  child 
of  four  or  five  years  of  age  !  This  good  woman  with  her 
whole  family,  were  worn  down  with  the  visits,  conversations, 
&c.  &c.  of  these  generally  invisible  gentry.  Their  lives 
were  almost  a  burthen  to  them  ;  and  they  had  little  prosperity 
in  their  secular  affairs.  But  these  accounts  were  not  confined 
to  them  :  the  whole  neighbourhood  was  full  of  them,  and  the 
belief  was  general  if  not  universal.  From  the  natural  curi- 
osity of  A.  C.  it  needs  not  to  be  wondered  that  he  wished  to 
see  matters  of  this  sort.  He  and  his  brother  frequently  sup- 
posed that  they  heard  noises  and  music  altogether  unearthly. 
Often  they  have  remarked  that  small  fires  had  been  kindled 
over  night  in  places  where  they  knew  there  were  none  the 
preceding  day  ;  and  at  such  sights,  it  was  usual  for  them  to 
say  to  each  other,  The  fairies  have  been  here  last  night. 
Whatsoever  may  be  said  of  such  imaginings  and  sights, 
though  not  one  in  a  million  may  have  even  the  shadow  of 
truth,  yet  sober  proofs  of  the  existence  of  a  spiritual  world, 
should  not  be  lightly  regarded.  We  may  ridicule  such  ac- 
counts, till  the  Holy  Scriptures  themselves  may  come  in  for 
their  share  of  infidel  abuse. 


S8 


SUMMAKY  Or  KIU.KUON. 


BOOK  II. 


I  come  now  to  the  most  important  part  of  A.  C.'s  life, — 
that  in  which  he  began  to  perceive  the  importance  of  pure  and 
undefiled  Religion :  and  in  which  he  began  to  discern  and 
relish  the  power  of  divine  truth.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
there  can  be  any  great  variety  in  the  experience  of  religious 
people.  Repentance,  faith,  and  holiness,  are  unchangeable 
in  their  nature,  and  uniform  in  their  effects.  Religion  has  to 
do  with  one.  God,  one  Mediator,  one  sacrifice;  it  recommends 
one  faith,  enjoins  one  baptism,  proclaims  one  heaven,  and  one 
hell.  All  these  are  unchangeable  botii  in  their  nature  and  their 
effects.  One  Gospel  is  the  fountain  whence  all  these  things 
are  derived  ;  and  that  Gospel  being  the  everlasting  Gospel. 
was,  is,  and  will  be,  the  same,  from  its  first  publication,  till 
time  shall  be  no  more.  Novelty,  therefore,  on  such  subjects, 
cannot  be  expected :  he  who  has  read  the  conversion  and  re- 
ligious experience  of  one  sensible  man,  has,  in  substance,  read 
that  of  ten  thousand. 

Yet  still  it  is  a  subject  of  laudable  curiosity  to  know,  how  a 
mind  such  as  that  of  Adam  Clarke's  became  first  enlightened  ; 
on  what  grounds  he  first  received  that  religious  creed  of  which 
he  was  afterwards  so  powerful  an  advocate ;  and  why  he  be- 
came so  decisively  attached  to  that  body  of  religious  people  in 
whose  communion  he  still  remains. 

We  have  already  noticed  the  bringing  up  of  A.  C.  and  the 
rare  that  a  religious  mother  took  of  the  spiritual  concerns 
of  her  children ;  and  the  good  effects  of  that  education,  in 
opening  their  minds  to  religious  truth,  and  keeping  their 
hearts  susceptible  of  divine  impressions.  We  have  also  seen, 
what  effects  this  produced  on  the  mind  of  Adam  in  particular, 
filling  his  heart  with  the  fear  of  God,  a  deep  reverence  for  the 
Bible,  and  the  most  cordial  approbation  of  the  principles  of 
Christianity  in  general.  We  are  now  to  witness  the  vegeta- 
tion of  that  seed  which  was  cast  into  a  soil  which  God  had 
fitted  for  its  reception;  where  it  took  deep  root,  and  brought 
forth  such  fruits  as  gave  no  equivocal  evidence  of  a  thorough 
scriptural  conversion.  lie  had  hitherto  sat  principally  under 
the  ministry  of  the  Rev.  W.  Smith,  of  Miliburn,  near  Cole- 
raine,  Rector  of  the  parish  of  Agherton.  He  was  a  good  man, 
full  of  humanity  and  benevolence,  and  preached,  as  far  as  he 
knew  it,  most  conscientiously,  the  Gospel  of  Christ  ;  but  on 


FIRST  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  THE  METHODISTS. 


89 


the  doctrine  of  justification  Inj  faith,  or  the  way  in  which  a 
sinner  is  to  be  reconciled  to  God,  he  was  either  not  very  clear, 
or  was  never  explicit.  He  was  fond  of  Adam  because  he  was 
almost  the  only  person  who  assisted  the  clerk  in  the  Church 
service,  and  especially  the  singi?ig. 

Besides  his  general  attendance  at  church  with  his  father, 
Adam  occasionally  went  to  the  Presbyterian  meeting-house, 
where  the  trumpet  gave  a  very  uncertain  sound,  as  both  pastor 
and  people  were  verging  closely  on  Socinianism.  A  general 
forgetfulness  of  God  prevailed  in  the  parish  ;  which,  as  to  re- 
ligious matters,  was  divided  between  the  Church  and  the  Pres- 
byterians :  and  there  was  scarcely  a  person  in  it,  decidedly 
pious,  though  there  were  several  that  feared  God,  and  but  few 
that  were  grossly  profane  or  profligate.  In  that  parish  there 
was  not  one  Roman  Catholic  family.  The  state  of  experi- 
mental religion  was  very  low,  though  there  were  still  some 
old  people  who  talked  about  the  godliness  of  their  ancestors; 
and  seemed  to  feel  no  small  satisfaction,  and  even  spiritual 
safety,  in  being  able  to  say  We  have  Abraham  for  aw  father. 
Even  Mrs.  Clarke,  for  the  want  of  the  means  of  grace,  and 
the  doctrine  that  is  according  to  godliness,  had  lost  ground, 
and  began  to  be  remiss  in  her  domestic  practice  of  piety.  The 
place  needed  reformation,  but  faithful  reprovers  were  wanting; 
— like  the  foolish  virgins,  they  were  all  either  slumbering  or 
sleeping,  and  it  required  a  voice  like  the  midnight  cry,  to 
awake  them.  This  voice,  God,  in  his  endless  mercy,  shortly 
sent. 

About  the  year  1777,  the  Methodist  preachers,  who  had 
been  for  some  time  established  in  Coleraine,  visited  the  parish 
of  Agherton.  Of  this  people  A.  C.  had  never  before  heard, 
except  once  from  a  paragraph  in  a  newspaper,  where  it  was  re- 
marked as  a  singular  thing,  and  well  worthy  of  notice,  that — 
"  A  Methodist  preacher,  ministering  in  the  open  air,  to  a  large 
congregation,  a  heavy  shower  of  rain  falling,  the  people  began 
to  disperse  to  seek  shelter  in  their  houses,  which  the  preacher 
observing,  told  them  that  'rain  was  one  of  the  chief  blessings 
of  God's  providence,  that  without  it  there  could  be  neither 
seed  time,  nor  harvest,  nor  indeed  any  green  thing  on  the  face 
of  the  earth :  and  will  you,'  said  he,  'fly  from  the  gift  of  God?' 
The  people  felt  the  reproof,  gathered  more  closely  together,  and 
though  the  rain  continued  to  descend,  heard  patiently  and  pi- 
ously to  the  end  of  the  discourse." 

One  evening,  after  school  hours,  a  young  gentleman,  one  of 
A.  C.'s  school-fellows,  came  to  him,  and  surprised  him  by  say- 
ing "  Come,  Adam,  let  us  go  to  Ihirnside,  there  is  a  Methodist 
preacher  to  be  there  this  evening,  and  wc  shall  have  nice  fun." 
Now,  although  Adam  was  sufficiently  playful,  and  was  always 
ready  to  embrace  any  opportunity  for  diversion  and  amuse- 
ment, yet  he  was  puzzled  to  understand  how  preaching  and 


!HJ  FIBfiT  ACO.UAI.NTANCE  WITH  THE  METHODISTS. 


•playing  could  be  associated ;  or  how  a  time  set  apart  for  dr. 
votion,  could  be  proper  for  amusement;  for  he  had  been  always 
taught  to  bold  preaching  in  reverence,  whether  he  heard  it  in 
the  church,  or  in  the  Presbyterian  meeting.  He  engaged 
however  to  go,  yet  without  the  slightest  expectation  of  the 
promised  diversion.  He  went  accordingly,  and  found  many 
people  assembled  in  a  barn  :  in  a  short  time  the  preacher  en- 
tered, a  plain,  serious  looking  man,  but  widely  different  in  his 
dress,  from  any  clerical  gentleman  he  had  ever  before  seen. 
His  name  was  John  Brettel;  he  was  many  years  a  very  re- 
spectable itinerant  preacher  among  the  Methodists,  as  was  also 
his  brother  Jeremiah,  and  sprung  from  a  very  respectable  family 
in  Birmingham.  A.  C.  fixed  his  eyes  upon  him,  and  was  not 
at  all  surprised  with  his  first  sentence,  which  was  this,  "  I  see 
several  lads  there,  I  hope  they  will  be  quiet  and  behave  well ; 
if  not,  they  shall  be  put  out  of  the  house."  As  Adam  expect- 
ed no  diversion,  he  was  not  disappointed  by  this  declaration. 
He  did  not  recollect  the  text,  and  the  discourse  did  not  make 
any  particular  impression  on  his  mind  :  but  he  was  rather  sur- 
prised by  the  following  assertion,  "  The  Westminster  divines," 
said  the  preacher,  "  have  asserted  in  their  Catechism,  that  no 
mere  man,  since  the  fail,  can  keep  God's  commandments : 
but  doth  daily  break  them,  in  thought,  word,  and  deed:  but 
the  Scriptures  promise  us  salvation  from  all  our  sin :  and  I 
must  credit  them  in  preference  to  the  Westminster  divines." 
Adam  had  learned  his  Catechism,  as  before  stated,  and  had 
given  implicit  credence  to  this  assertion  :  but  he  reasoned  thus 
with  himself,  "  If  the  Scriptures  say  the  contrary,  certainly  1 
should  believe  the  Scriptures  in  preference  to  the  catechism." 

After  preaching  was  ended,  Mr.  Brettel  went  into  the  man's 
house,  whose  barn  he  had  occupied,  and  several  people  fol- 
lowed him,  and  among  the  rest,  young  Clarke.  He  talked 
much  on  the  necessity  of  Repentance,  Faith,  Holiness,  &c. ; 
and  exhorted  the  people  to  turn  to  God  with  all  their  hearts, 
and  not  to  defer  it.  This  second  meeting  broke  up  in  about 
half  an  hour,  and  the  preacher  and  his  friends  returned  to 
Coleraine.  There  was  with  him,  among  others,  Mr.  Stephen 
Douthitt,  well  known  in  Coleraine,  as  an  irreproachable  pat- 
tern of  practical  Christianity  ;  and  an  ornament  to  the  Metho- 
dist's society  in  that  place,  for  nearly  half  a  century. 

On  his  return  to  his  father's  house,  Adam  reflected  a  good 
deal  on  the  man,  his  manner,  and  his  conversation.  And 
thought,  if  these  people  talk  so  continually  about  religion, 
both  in  public  and  private,  they  must  have  a  painful  time  of  it. 

The  next  week  Mr.  B.  came  to  another  part  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  Adam  went  to  hear  him  :  his  text  was,  Behold, 
J  stand  at  the  door  and,  knock  ;  if  any  man  hear  my  voice 
and  open  the  door,  Iwill  com,eintohim,andv?illsupwithhim, 
and  he  with  me. — Rev.  iii.  20.    He  pointed  out  the  vnrioug 


INCREASING  KNOWLEDGE  OF  RELIGION. 


91 


methods  which  God  used  in  order  to  awaken  and  alarm  im- 
penitent sinners  ;  and  the  dreadful  consequences  of  slighting, 
resisting,  or  neglecting  these  calls, — ruin  final  and  eternal 
must  be  the  inevitable  consequence  ;  "  but  God,"  said  he, 
"  always  fires  the  warning  cannon  before  he  discharges  the 
murdering  piece?"  This  was  the  last  time  he  heard  Mr. 
Brettel :  other  preachers  succeeded  him  in  Coleraine,  and  oc- 
casionally visited  Agherton,  and  most  of  the  neighbouring 
towns  and  villages;  and  when  they  were  within  his  reach, 
A.  C.  attended  their  ministry.  At  length  that  truly  apostolic 
man,  Mr.  Thomas  Barber,  came  to  the  place ;  and  with  in- 
defatigable diligence  and  zeal  went  through  all  the  country, 
preaching  Christ  Crucified,  and  Redemption  through  his  Blood ; 
in  dwelling-houses,  barns,  school-houses,  the  open  air,  &c.  &c; 
and  many  were  awakened  under  his  ministry.  Mrs.  Clarke, 
Adam's  mother,  went  to  hear,  and  immediately  pronounced, 
<!  this  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Reformers — this  is  true  unadul- 
terated Christianity."  In  this  she  greatly  rejoiced,  and  press- 
ed all  her  family  to  go  and  hear  for  themselves.  Mr.  Clarke 
went,  and  he  bore  testimony  that  it  was  "  the  genuine  doctrine 
of  the  Established  Church."  The  preacher  was  invited  to 
their  house,  which  he  and  all  his  successors,  ever  had  as  their 
home,  and  were  always  entertained  according  to  the  best 
circumstances  of  the  family.  Under  the  preaching  and  pious 
advices  of  this  excellent  man,  Adam's  mind  got  gradually  en- 
lightened and  improved  :  he  had  no  violent  awakenings  ;  his 
heart  was  in  a  good  measure,  by  his  mother's  pious  care,  pre- 
pared to  receive  the  seed  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  doctrine  of 
God  "  dropped  on  him  as  the  rain,  his  speech  distilled  on  him 
as  dew;  as  the  small  rain  upon  the  tender  herb,  and  as 
showers  upon  the  grass."  He  followed  this  preacher  every 
where  within  his  reach;  left  all  childish  diversions,  be- 
came sedate  and  sober,  prayed  in  private  and  read  the  Scrip- 
tures; till  at  last  his  parents  began  to  think  he  was  likely  to 
be  righteous  over  much  ;  he  however  went  on  and  attended 
closely  to  his  work  in  the  farm  ;  sometimes  from  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning  till  between  six  and  seven  at  night ;  and  then 
felt  quite  happy  to  be  permitted  to  run  three  ox  four  miles  into 
the  country  to  hear  a  sermon  !  By  these  means  he  was  gene- 
rally enabled  to  hear  four  sermons  a-week,  when  the  preacher 
was  in  that  part  of  the  country  :  and  none  could  say,  that  to 
attend  this  preaching  he  had  ever  left  undone  one  half-hour's 
work,  or  omitted  to  perform  any  thing  in  its  proper  season. 
Far  from  making  him  slothful,  the  desire  he  had  for  his  sal- 
vation, tended  to  make  him  still  more  active  in  the  secular  con- 
cerns of  the  family.  Formerly  he  could  while  away  time, 
and  often  play  when  he  should  have  been  at  work:  now,  he 
did  every  thing  from  conscience,  he  served  his  father  as  he 
would  have  served  the  merest  stranger,  in  whose  employment 


92 


INCREASING  KNOWLEDGE  OF  RELIGION. 


!ie  should  spend  every  hour  of  the  day.  Nay,  to  labour  with 
his  hands  was  now  his  delight, — he  felt  the  full  force  of  those 
words  of  the  apostle,  Not  slothful  in  business,  fervent  in 
spirit  serving  the  Lord.  From  his  own  experience  he  could 
say,  I  love  to  xoork  with  my  hands  ;  and  as  he  saw  others  who 
were  under  the  same  religious  concern  doubly  active  in  their 
affairs  of  life,  while  earnestly  seeking  the  salvation  of  their 
souls,  he  knew  that  the  reproach  which  many  raised  against 
those  who  were  so  intent  in  their  attendance  on  the  means  of 
grace —  Ye  ore  idle,  ye  are  slothful, — ye  do  not  love  work — ye 
-neglect  your  families  to  gad  after  preaching,  &c. — was  a 
most  unfounded  slander,  deduced  from  Pharaoh  the  first  per- 
secutor of  the  Church  of  God  ;  and  shamelessly"  continued 
until  now.  He  ever  bore  testimony,  that  he  had  found  in  all 
his  own  religious  experience,  and  in  the  acquaintance  he  had 
with  the  work  of  God  in  others,  that  men  became  economists 
of  time,  and  diligent  in  their  avocations,  in  proportion  as  they 
were  earnest  for  the  salvation  of  their  souls.  This  reproach 
has  long  been  urged  against  the  Methodists,  by  those  who 
had  no  religion ;  because  the  diligence  of  the  former  in  their 
spiritual  concerns,  was  a  standing  reproof  to  the  others  who 
were  living  without  a  Scriptural  hope,  and  without  God  in 
the  world. 

Prayer  also  was  his  delight.  He  could  no  longer  be  satis- 
fied with  morning  and  evening  ;  he  was  awakened  from  the 
dream  that  this  was  sufficient,  by  the  following  questions  of 
Mr.  Barber.  "Adam,  do  you  think  that  God,  for  Christ's 
sake,  has  forgiven  you  your  sins  ?"  No,  Sir,  I  have  no  evi- 
dence of  this.  "  Adam,  do  you  pray  ?"  Yes,  Sir.  "  How 
often  do  you  pray  in  private  ?"  Every  morning  and  evening. 
"  Adam,  did  you  ever  hear  of  any  person  finding  peace  with 
God,  who  only  prayed  in  private  twice  in  the  day?^  He  felt 
ashamed  and  confounded  ;  and  discerned  at  once  that  he  was 
not  sufficiently  in  earnest,  nor  sufficiently  awakened  to  a  due 
sense  of  his  state.  Though  he  could  say,  that  often  during 
the  day,  he  was  accustomed  to  lift  up  his  heart  to  God ;  yet 
he  was  not  then  aware  that  this  requires  much  less  light,  and 
heat  than  are  requisite  in  solemn  pleading  with  God. 

He  now  began  to  quicken  his  pace,  for  he  heard  in  almost 
every  sermon,  that  it  was  the  .privilege  of  all  the  people  of 
God  to  know,  by  the  testimony  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  their 
consciences,  that  their  sins  were  forgiven  them,  for  Christ's 
sake  ;  and  that  when  they  became  adopted  into  the  heavenly 
family,  and  were  made  children  of  God,  God  sent  forth  the 
Spirit  of  his  Son  into  their  hearts,  crying  Abba,  Father. 
This  he  earnestly  sought,  but  was  damped  in  his  ardor  after 
this  blessing  hy  the  sayings  of  many,  of  whose  judgment  he 
had  a  favourable  opinion,  that  to  know  their  sins  forgiven 
them,  was  the  privilege  only  of  a  few,  and  those  the  most  fa- 


INCREASING  KNOWLEDGE  OF  RELIGION. 


93 


voured  of  God's  people.  On  this  point  they  made  the  follow- 
ing distinctions : — 

"  There  is  a  twofold  species  of  saving  faith, — the  faith  of 
assurance,  and  the  faith  of  adherence.  The  former  the  pri- 
vilege of  very  few ;  the  latter,  the  privilege  of  all  true  Chris- 
tians. The  former  the  most  comfortable,  but  the  latter  equal- 
ly safe.  Trusting  in  an  unseen  Christ,  will  deceive  no  man  : 
but  if  he  may  have  the  comforts  of  the  Spirit,  so  much  the 
better." 

He  now  determined  to  search  the  Scriptures  to  see  whether 
these  things  were  so  ;  and  as  he  had  never  yet  read  the  New 
Testament  regularly  through,  he  began  that  work ;  and,  with 
deep  attention  and  earnest  prayer,  read  over  the  whole  from 
beginning  to  end  ;  spending  in  this  employment  almost  every 
leisure  moment.  With  this  diligence  the  merciful  God  was 
well  pleased,  for  he  shed  light  both  upon  his  heart,  and  upon 
his  book.  It  was  indeed  a  new  book  to  him, — he  read,  and  felt, 
and  wept,  and  prayed  ;  was  often  depressed,  then  encouraged ; 
his  eyes  were  opened,  and  he  beheld  wonders  in  this  divine 
Law.  By  this  reading  he  acquired  and  fixed  his  Creed  in  all 
its  articles,  not  one  of  which  he  ever  after  found  reason  to 
change,  though  he  had  not  as  yet  .that  full  confidence  of  each, 
which  he  afterwards  acquired.  At  this  time  he  had  read 
none  of  the  writings  of  the  Methodists  ;  and  from  them  he 
never  learned  that  creed,  which,  on  after  examination,  he 
found  to  be  precisely  the  same  with  theirs.  He  could  say,  "  I 
have  not  received  my  creed  from  man,  nor  by  man."  He 
learned  it — (without  consulting  bodies  of  divinity,  human 
creeds,  confessions  of  faith,  or  such  like,) — from  the  fountain 
head  of  truth,  the  Oracles  of  the  living  God. 

He  now  felt  increasing  anxiety,  not  only  for  his  own  soul, 
but  for  those  of  his  family,  his  school-fellows,  and  his  neigh- 
bours. He  rejoiced  to  see  numbers  attt  :iding  the  word  preach- 
ed, and  a  society  formed  in  an  adjoining  village  called  Mulli- 
hicall,  though  himself  never  thought  of  becoming  a  member 
in  it,  or  in  any  other.  His  mother  had  gone  to  see  how  what 
was  called  class-meeting  was  conducted,  and  on  her  return 
spoke  highly  of  the  meeting.  She  desired  her  son  Adam  to 
accompany  her  the  next  Lord's  day  to  the  said  meeting.  He 
went  with  some  reluctance.  After  singing  and  prayer,  the 
leader  spoke  to  each  person  severally  concerning  his  spiritual 
state.  Adam  listened  with  deep  attention,  and  was  surprised 
to  hear  one  of  his  neighbours  speak  to  this  effect :  "  I  was 
once  darkness,  but  now  I  am  light  in  the  Lord :  I  was  once 
a  slave  to  sin,  but  now  I  am  made  free  by  the  grace  of  Christ : 
I  once  felt  the  hon  ors  of  a  guilty  conscience,  but  now  I  know 
and  feel  that  God  has  blotted  out  my  sins."  He  was  deep- 
ly struck  with  these  declarations ;  and  though  he  knew  that 
this  man  had  been  a  giddy  foolish  trifler,  a  drummer  to  a 


94 


INCREASING  KNOWLEDGE  OF  RELIGION. 


company  of  volunteer  yet  knowing  that  he  had  seriously  at 


truth  of  this  testimony.  Some  others  expressed  themselves  in 
the  same  way  ;  while  others  deplored  their  hardness  of  heart, 
and  darkness  of  mind.  He  now  began  to  feel  very  uneasy  : 
he  thought  "  this  is  no  place  for  me  to  be  in  :  I  have  no  right 
to  be  here :  these  people  should  have  none  to  witness  their 
religious  meetings,  but  those  who  belong  to  some  society :" 
and,  in  short,  he  felt  grieved  that  his  mother  should  have  been 
so  inconsiderate  as  to  have  brought  him  there.  He  was  afraid 
lest  fhe  leader  should  question  him  ;  and  he  knew  he  had  no- 
thing to  say  that  would  be  creditable  to  himself  or  profitable 
to  others :  at  last  he  was  questioned,  and  got  off  with  a  sort 
of  general  answer.  The  meeting  broke  up,  and  he  was  re- 
turning home,  melancholy  and  unhappy.  The  leader,  Mr. 
Andrew  Hunter,  of  Coleraine,  joined  him  on  the  road,  and 
began  to  speak  to  him  on  spiritual  matters,  in  a  most  affec- 
tionate and  pathetic  way  ;  earnestly  pressed  him  to  give  his 
whole  heart  to  God  ;  for,  said  he,  You  may  be  a  burning  and 
shining  light  in  a  benighted  land.  Why  these  words  should 
have  deeply  affected  him  be  could  not  tell ;  but  so  it  was  ;  he 
was  cut  to  the  heart :  instead  of  being  rich  and  increased  in 
spiritual  goods,  as  he  once  fondly  thought,  he  now  saw  that  he 
was  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked. 
All  his  past  diligence,  prayer,  reading,  &c.,  appeared  as  no- 
thing,— in  vain  he  looked  within  and  without  for  something  to 
recommend  him  to  God;  but  there  was  nothing, — multitudes 
of  evils  which  before  were  undiscovered,  were  now  pointed  out 
to  his  conscience  as  by  a  sun-beam.  He  was  filled  with  con- 
fusion and  distress;  wherever  he  looked  he  saw  nothing  but 
himself.  The  light  which  penetrated  his  mind,  led  him  into 
nil  the  chambers  of  the  house  of  imagery  ;  and  everywhere 
he  saw  idols  set  up  in  opposition  to  the  worship  of  the  true 
God.  He  wished  to  flee  from  himself,  and  looked  with  envy 
on  stocks  and  stones,  for  they  had  not  offended  a  just  God, 
and  were  incapable  of  bearing  his  displeasure. 

The  season  was  fine,  the  fields  were  beautifully  clothed  with 
green,  the  herds  browsed  contentedly  in  their  pastures,  and  the 
birds  were  singing  melodiously,  some  in  the  air,  some  in  the 
trees  and  bushes;  hut,  alas,  his  eyes  and  his  ears  were  now 
no  longer  inlets  to  pleasure.  In  point  of  "ratification,  nature 
was  to  him  a  universal  blank,  for  he  felt  himself  destitute  of 
the  image  and  approbation  of  his  Maker ;  and,  besides  this  con- 
sciousness, there  needed  no  other  hell  to  constitute  his  misery. 
His  doleful  language  was,  K0  that  F  knew  where  I  might 
find  Him,  that  I  might  come  even  to  his  seat!  Behold,  I  go 
forward,  but  he  is  not  there:  and  backward,  but  I  cannot  per- 
ceive Him :  on  the  left  hand,  where  be  doth  work,  but  I  can- 
not behold  Him,  he  hideth  himself  on  th«  right  hand,  that  1 


company  01  voiuuieersj 
tended  the  preaching  tc 


for  some 


/ 


D0UBT3  INSTILLED  INTO  HI3  MIND. 


95 


cannot  see  Him." — Job  xxiii.  3,  8,  9.  He  was  afraid  even  to 
look  towards  God,  because  he  felt  himself  unholy,  and  yet  he 
knew  that  his  help  could  come  from  none  other  than  Him 
whom  he  had  offended ;  and  whose  image  he  did  not  bear, 
and  consequently  could  not  have  his  approbation.  On  a  sub- 
ject of  this  kind,  even  an  enemy  to  the  Christian  faith,  may 
teach  an  important  truth.  "  It  was  once  demanded  of  the 
fourth  Calif  Aalee,  'If  the  canopy  of  heaven  were  a  bow,  and 
the  earth  were  the  cord  thereof;  if  calamities  were  arrows, 
and  mankind  were  the  mark  for  these  arrows  !  and  if  almighty 
God,  the  tremendous  and  the  glorious,  were  the  unerring 
Archer,  to  whom  could  the  sons  of  Adam  flee  for  protection  V 
The  Calif  answered,  saying;  'The  sons  of  Adam  must  flee 
unto  the  Lord.'  " — Teemour. 

Mr.  Barber,  who  had  always  watched  over  him  for  good, 
and  had  lately  formed  a  class  of  those  who  desired  to  save  their 
souls; — without  acquainting  him  with  it,  had  entered  Adam's 
name  among  the  rest.  When  he  heard  this,  it  did  not  please 
him,  but  he  said,  "  Since  they  have  put  down  my  name,  I  will, 
by  the  help  of  God,  meet  with  them  ;"  and  he  did  so  for  seve- 
ral weeks.  One  morning  he  was  detained  by  illness  :  the  next 
time  he  permitted  a  trifling  hinderance  to  prevent  him  :  and  the 
third  morning  he  felt  no  desire  to  go:  thus  he  was  absent 
three  weeks. 

It  pleased  God  at  this  time  to  permit  Satan  to  sift  him  as 
wheat.  It  was  a  strong  article  in  his  creed  that  the  Passion 
and  Death  of  Christ  were  held  out  through  the  whole  of  the 
New  Testament  as  sacrifcial  and  expiatory  ;  and  that  His 
Death  was  a  sufficient  ransom,  sacrifice,  and  atonement  for  the 
sin  of  the  world:  for  He,  by  the  grace  of  God,  hadtasted  death 
for  every  man.  This  doctrine  was  the  only  basis  of  his  hope  ; 
and  yet  he  had  not  that  faith  by  which  he  could  lay  hold  on  the 
merit  of  that  Sacrifice  for  his  personal  salvation.  Were  this 
foundation  to  be  destroyed,  what  could  he  do,  or  where  flee  for 
refuge  ?    How  it  was  shaken  in  his  mind  I  am  about  to  relate. 

He  had  long  been  intimate  in  the  house  of  a  very  respect- 
able family  in  the  neighbourhood.  He  was  there  as  their  own 
child  :  for  him  they  had  all  a  very  strong  affection,  and  he  felt, 
for  them  in  return,  both  affection  and  reverence.  One  evening 
the  conversation  in  the  family  turned  on  the  Doctrine  of  the 
Atonement;  and  some  observations  then  made  filled  his  soul 
with  doubts  and  fears.  It  was,  in  short,  stated  by  one  present, 
that,  "the  Methodists  were  guilty  of  idolatry,  for  they  gave 
that  worship  to  Jesus  Christ  that  belonged  to  the  Father  only." 
He  came  home  full  of  confusion  :  "  What  have  I  been  doing  ? 
Have  I  been  adding  idolatry  to  all  the  rest  of  my  transgres- 
sions ?  Have  I  had  two  Gods  instead  of  one  ?"  He  went  into 
the  boviere,  (shippon.)  the  first  place  he  came  to,  and  kneeled 
down  among  the  cattle,  and  began  to  ask  pardon  of  God,  fear- 


86 


DOUBTS  INSTILLED  INTO  HIS  MIND. 


ing  lhat  he  had  given  that  glory  to  another,  which  was  due  to 
Him  alone.  He  was  not  satisfied,  however,  with  this;  he 
thought  he  should  go  farther,  and  leave  the  name  of  Christ 
out  of  all  his  prayers  ;  this  proceeded  so  far  that  he  did  not  like 
to  converse  about  Him.  What  he  had  lately  heard,  represent- 
ed Him  to  his  mind  as  an  usurper;  and  at  last  he  could  not 
bear  to  see  His  name  in  any  religious  book.  Darkness  now 
entered  into  his  mind,  his  spiritual  fervor  gradually  diminished, 
till  it  was  at  last  entirely  gone.  He  prayed,  but  it  was  a  form: 
he  read,  but  it  was  without  unction.  He  felt  this  lamentable 
change,  and  began  earnestly  to  inquire  whence  it  had  arisen  ? 
Importunate  prayer,  his  former  refuge,  was  suggested  to  his 
mind,  as  the  only  help ;  for  he  had  none  to  whom  he  could 
open  his  heart.  That  he  might  not  be  perceived  by  any  of 
the  family,  he  went  once  more  among  the  cattle,  a  place  to 
which  he  had  often  resorted,  and  fell  down  before  his  Maker, 
and  prayed  to  this  effect, — "  O  Lord  God  Almighty,  look  with 
pity  on  the  state  of  my  scul !  I  am  sinful,  ignorant,  and  con- 
fused. I  know  not  what  to  say,  or  what  to  believe.  If  1  be  in 
an  error,  O  Lord  God,  lead  me  into  thy  truth!  Thou  knowest 
I  would  not  deceive  myself:  Thou  knowest  I  esteem  thy  ap- 
probation beyond  life  itself.  O,  my  God,  teach  me  what  is 
ri^ht !  if  I  be  in  an  error,  O  shew  it  to  me,  and  deliver  me  from 
it !  O  deliver  me  from  it,  and  teach  me  Thy  truth  !  O  God  hear, 
and  have  mercy  upon  me,— -for  the  sake  of  Jesds  Christ  !" — 
These  last  words  had  no  sooner  dropped  from  his  lips,  than  he 
started  as  if  alarmed  at  himself.  "  What !  have  I  been  again  pray- 
ing in  the  name  of  Jesus  ?  was  this  right  ?"  Immediately  his 
soul  was  filled  with  light,  the  name  of  Jesus  was  like  the  most 
odoriferous  ointment  poured  out,  he  could  clasp  it  to  his  heart, 
and  say,  "Yes,  my  only  Lord  and  Saviour,  thou  hast  died  for 
me, — by  Thee  alone  I  can  come  unto  God, — there  is  no  other 
Name  given  from  heaven  among  men  by  which  we  can  be 
saved  !  "Through  the  merit  of  thy  Blood,  I  will  take  confidence, 
and  approach  unto  God !  He  now  felt  that  he  Avas  deli- 
vered from  those  depths  of  Satan,  by  which  his  soul  was  nearly 
engulphed. 

This  narrow  escape  from  sentiments  which  would  have  been 
fatal,  if  not  finally  ruinous  to  him,  he  ever  held  as  a  most  spe- 
cial interference  of  God  ;  and  he  always  found  it  his  duty  to 
caution  men  strongly  against  the  Arian  and  Socinian  errors. 
It  was  this,  without  any  suggestions  from  man,  led  him  to  exa- 
mine the  reputed  orthodox,  but  spurious  doctrine,  of  the  Eternal 
Sonship  of  Christ ;  which  he  soon  found,  and  has  since  de- 
monstrated, that  no  man  can  hold,  and  hold  the  eternal  unori- 
ginaled  nature  of  Jesus  Christ.  For,  if  His  divine  nature  be 
in  any  sense  whatever  derived,  His  eternity,  and  by  conse- 
quence His  Godhead,  is  destroyed  ;  and  if  His  Godhead,  then 
His  Atonement.  On  this  point  he  has  produced  a  simple  argu- 


CHRIST'3  ETEHNAL  SONSIlIf. 


ment  in  his  Note  on  Luke  i.  35.  which  is  absolutely  unanswer- 
able. Attempts  have  been  made  to  confute  his  doctrine,  but 
they  are  all  absurd,  as  long  as  that  argument  remains  unan- 
swered. 

The  argument  is  simply  this: — "  1.  If  Christ  be  the  Son 
of  God,  as  to  his  Divine  Nature,  then  he  cannot  be  eternal, 


to  Son.  precedence  in  time,  if  not  in  nature  too.  Father  and 
Son  imply  the  notion  of  generation,  and  generation  implies  a 
time  in  which  it  was  effected ;  and  time  also  antecedent  to 
such  generation.  2.  If  Christ  be  the  Son  of  God,  as  to  his 
Diviuc  nature,  then  the  Father  is  of  necessity  prior,  conse- 
quently, in  Godhead  superior  to  him.  3.  Again,  if  this  Divine 
nature  were  begotten  of  the  Father,  then  it  must  have  been 
in  time,  i.  e.  there  must  have  been  a  period  in  which  it  did  not 
exist ;  and  a  period  when  it  began  to  exist.  This  destroys 
the  eternity  of  our  blessed  Lord,  and  robs  him  at  once  of  his 
Godhead.  4.  To  say  that  he  was  begotten  from  all  eternity, 
is  absurd  ;  and  the  phrase  Eternal  Son  is  a  positive  self-con- 
tradiction. Eternity  is  that  which  had  no  beginning,  and 
stands  in  no  reference  to  time.  Son  supposes  time,  genera- 
tion, and  father,  and  time  also  antecedent  to  such  generation  ; 
therefore,  the  theologic  conjunction  of  these  two  terms,  son 
and  eternity,  is  absolutely  impossible,  as  they  imply  essentially 
different  and  opposite  ideas."* 

The  Reader  will  see  from  this  case,  which  I  have  circum- 
stantially related: — 1.  How  daugerous  it  is  for  young  converts 
to  go  into  the  company  not  merely  of  the  ungodly,  but  of  those 
who  are  given  to  doubtful  disputations.  2.  How  completely 
subversive  it  must  be  to  a  penitent  soul  to  frequent  the  com- 
pany of  those,  howsoever  decent  and  orderly  they  may  be  in 
their  conduct,  who  deny,  as  a  vicarious  Atonement,  the  Lord 
that  bought  them.  Take  away  this  foundation,  and  it  is  utterly 
impossible  for  any  true  penitent  to  entertain  any  hope  of  mercy. 

3.  People  may  hold  this  doctrine  who  never  felt  the  guilt  of 
sin,  their  own'  sore,  and  the  plague  of  their  heart ;  but  let  a 
man  see  himself  a  sinner,  contemplate  the  infinite  purity  and 
justice  of  God,  and  the  awful  strictness  of  his  law  ;  and'  then 
he  will  feel  that  in  heaven,  in  earth,  in  time,  in  eternity,  there 
is  neither  hope  nor  help  for  his  soul,  if  he  have  not  a  Sacrifice 
to  bring  to  the  Divine  Majesty,  of  merit  sufficient  to  atone  for 
all  his  crimes,  and  give  him  a  right  to  an  inheritance  among 
them  that  are  sanctified.  It  is  trifling  with  conscience  to  talk 
of  confiding  in  the  Divine  benevolence,  while  the  fragments  of 
a  broken  law  are  every  where  lying  under  the  sinner's  feet. 

4.  A.  C.'s  mind,  while  he  was  looking  for  Redemption  through 
*  On  this  subject  I  am  aware  that  much  difference  of  opinion  exists 

in  the  Established  Church:  some  holding  the  doctrine,  others  deny- 
ing it. 


Father  implies,  in  reference 


9 


98  DOUBTS  EXPELLED  UY  INWARD  KNOWLEDGE. 


the  Blood  of  the  covenant,  was  imbued  with  divine  fervour  ; 
he  ran  the  ways  of  God's  commandments,  and  was  exemplary 
in  every  part  of  his  conduct,  as  well  as  fervent  in  his  devo- 
tion ;  but  when  his  faith  in  the  Atonement  was  for  even  a 
short  time  staggered  by  subtle  insinuations,  his  devotion  was 
damped,  his  spiritual  affections  paralysed,  he  grew  weary  of 
a  cross  which  he  had  no  strength  to  bear,  and  though  he  was 
preserved  from  all  outward  sin,  and  was  orderly  in  his  deport- 
ment, piety  towards  God  no  longer  triumphed,  he  lost  all  com- 
fort, and  indeed  all  prospect  of  it,  and  became  good  for  nothing. 
This  was  not  a  solitary  case:  all  who  have  abandoned  the 
doctrine  of  Christ  crucified  for  the  sin  of  the  world,  have  been 
affected  in  a  similar  way.  Those  brought  up  in  the  opposite 
creed,  seem  to  suffer  less  from  it  than  those  do  who  apostatise 
from  what  is  called  the  orthodox  faith.  5.  We  see  in  this 
place  the  kindness  of  God  :  He  never  will  abandon  them  who 
sincerely  seek  Him.  He  heard  the  prayer  of  this  sincere  dis- 
tressed young  man  :  and  instead  of  suggesting  arguments  to 
his  mind,  by  which  he  might  successfully  combat  the  opposing 
doctrine,  He  impressed  his  heart  at  once  with  the  truth  ;  and 
answered  his  prayer  to  be  led  into  the  right  way,  by  leading 
him  in  a  moment  to  pray  with  confidence,  in  the  name  of  Je- 
sus. This  was  what  he  could  not  do  before  ;  and  in  this  peti- 
tion, every  objection  was  either  answered  or  absorbed. 

A.  C.  has  often  been  led  to  observe  that,  in  this  temporary 
perversion  of  his  creed,  Satan  had  more  influence  than  the 
arguments  he  had  heard  against  the  truth :  they  were  slight 
and  transient,  they  perplexed  the  mind  a  little ;  the  great  en- 
emy took  advantage  of  the  temporary  confusion,  and  for  some 
days,  fished  successfully  in  the  troubled  waters. 

Having  again  got  upon  the  Rock,  he  had  once  more  a  com- 
fortable prospect  of  the  promised  land,  and  set  out  afresh  for 
the  heavenly  rest.  Though  greatly  encouraged,  he  had  not 
yet  found  rest  for  his  soul.  He  heard  others  talk  of  the  Wit- 
ness of  the  Spirit,  and  knew  several  who  rejoiced  in  it  with 
joy  unspeakable ;  and  he  was  determined  never  to  give  up, 
till  he  was  made  a  partaker  of  the  same  grace.  His  distress 
was  great,  yet  it  neither  arose  from  a  fear  of  hell,  nor  from 
any  consciousness  of  God's  hatred  to  him,  but  from  the  deep- 
felt  want  of  the  approbation  and  Image  of  God. 

In  seeking  this,  he  had  a  species  of  mournful  rejoicing,  and 
often  vented  and  expressed  the  feelings  of  his  heart  in  words, 
expressive  of  his  ardent  desire  to  experience  the  power  and 
peace,  the  pardon  and  salvation  of  his  God. 

In  this  state  of  mind,  he  thought  it  right  to  receive  for 
the  first  time,  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lohd's  Supper.  This 
design  he  communicated  to  Mr.  Harber,  who  encouraged  him 
in  it ;  but,  as  the  Rubric  requires,  that  those  who  intend  to  re- 
ceive the  Holy  Sacrament,  shall  signify  their  intentions  some 


PREPARES  TO  RECEIVE  THE  SACRAMENT. 


99 


time  before,  to  the  minister ;  lie  purposed  to  wait  on  Mr.  Smith, 
the  Rector,  and  signify  his  wish,  and  ask  his  permission.  He 
accordingly  went,  and  Mr.  S.  received  him  with  great  affection 
and  tenderness.  He  was  much  affected  in  witnessing  so 
strong  a  desire  in  so  young  a  person;  and  said,  "I  should  be 
glad,  Master  Clarke,  if  you  would  go  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Younge, 
of  Coleraine,  he  is  a  very  wise  and  good  man,  and  will  exa- 
mine you,  and  give  you  the  best  advice  ;  and  if  you  will  go 
now,  I  will  write  a  note  by  you  to  Mr.  Younge."  Adam 
agreed,  and  went.  Mr.  Younge  also  behaved  towards  him 
with  much  tenderness  and  affability,  examined  him  out  of  the 
Catechism,  and  particularly  explained  the  last  answer  to  him, 
relative  to  the  duty  of  them  who  come  to  the  Sacrament  of 
the  Lord's  Supper:  viz.  "To  examine  themselves  whether 
they  repent  them  truly  of  their  former  sins, — whether  they 
steadfastly  purpose  to  lead  a  new  life, — have  a  lively  faith  in 
God's  mercy,  through  Christ,  Avith  a  thankful  remembrance 
of  his  Death;  and  be  in  charity  with  all  men:"  and  observed, 
"  It  is  not  your  being  able  to  say  this  by  heart,  that  is  the  qua- 
lification here  required  ;  but  your  heart  must  be  impressed 
with,  and  feel  all  these  things."  The  answers  of  Adam 
seemed  to  be  satisfactory  to  Mr.  Younge,  for  he  wrote  a  note 
back  to  Mr.  Smith,  which  when  he  read,  he  seemed  quite  re- 
joiced, and  said,  "  Mr.  Y.  tells  me  that  I  may  safely  admit 
you  to  the  Lord's  table." 

As  he  was  now  about  to  perform  one  of  the  most  solemn 
acts  of  his  life,  and  was  greatly  afraid  of  communicating  un- 
worthily, and  so  eating  and  drinking  his  own  damnation,  (as 
it  is  unhappily  expressed,  1  Cor.  xi.  29,  instead  of  condemna- 
tion,') he  purposed  to  go  through  the  Week's  Preparation ; 
a  book  wrhich,  however  well  intended,  has  been  the  means  of 
misleading  many,  by  causing  them  to  trust  in  the  punctual 


before  that  sacred  ordinance,  without  that  change  of  heart  and 
life  so  essentially  necessary  to  the  Christian  character.  Adam, 
however,  used  it  with  earnest  and  deep  concern ;  and  as,  in 
the  course  of  that  week,  he  was  obliged  to  go  a  short  journey 
on  his  father's  business,  which  took  up  the  whole  day,  (Thurs- 
day,) and  he  could  not  go  through  the  prescribed  prayers  and 
meditations ;  for  fear  of  coming  short,  he  did  double  work  on 
Friday,  and  brought  the  two  days  into  one  !  If  this  were  mis- 
taken piety,  it  was  at  least  sincere. 

On  the  morning  of  Easter  Sunday,  the  day  appointed  for 
the  Sacrament,  he  repaired  to  the  church  ;  and  after  sermon 
went  with  his  father  to  the  Communion  Table.  When  Mr. 
Smith  came  to  him  with  the  sacred  bread,  he  was  much 
affected,  and  when  he  had  said,  The  body  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  which  was  given  for  ther,  he  was  quite  overcome  ;  he 
sobbed,  the  tears  gushed  from  his  eyes,  and  he  could  not  for 


required,  for  a  short  time 


10Q 


RECEIVING  THE  SACRAMENT. 


some  seconds  proceed  to  the  end  of  the  sentence.  Here  was 
one  proof  of  a  godly  pastor  ;  he  felt  especially  for  the  young 
of  his  flock,  and  was  ready  to  carry  the  lambs  in  his  bosom. 
In  this  holy  ordinance  Adam's  mind  Avas  deeply  impressed 
with  the  necessity  of  giving  himself  wholly  up  to  t  he  service 
of  God  ;  and  he  considered  the  act  of  communicating,  as  one 
by  which  he  had  most  solemnly  and  publicly  bound  himself  to 
be  all  that  Christianity  requires  in  her  votaries,  through  His 
especial  assistance,  by  whom  that  Christianity  came.  But  he 
did  not  receive  it  as  a  seal  of  the  pardon  of  his  sins ;  or  as  a 
pledge  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Nothing  could  satisfy  him, 
but  a  pardon  felt  in  his  heart,  and  registered  in  his  conscience 
by  the  light  and  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  he  well  knew, 
that  an  entry  into  the  kingdom  of  glory,  depended  on  his  living 
to  God  in  this  world,  regaining  the  divine  image,  and  dying 
with  Christ  in  him  the  hope  of  glory.  He  received  it  there- 
fore as  a  memorial  of  the  Sacrifice  of  Christ,  by  which  pardon, 
holiness,  and  heaven,  were  purchased  for  mankind. 

It  would  be  well  if  all  communicants,  and  all  pastors,  treat- 
ed this  most  sacred  ordinance  as  young  Clarke  and  his  minis- 
ter did.  On  both  sides  it  was  supposed,  and  properly,  that 
too  much  caution  could  not  be  used.  Adam  on  his  part,  at- 
tended conscientiously  to  the  rubric,  and  consulted  his  minis- 
ter: the  minister  on  his  part,  proceeded  with  a  godly  caution, 
lest  he  should  distribute  improperly  those  sacred  elements. — 
Is  not  the  same  caution  still  necessary !  but  is  it  in  general 
observed  ?  Why  is  not  this  ordinance  which  represents  the 
agony  and  bloody  sweat,  the  cross  and  passion,  the  precious 
death  and  burial,  and  in  a  word,  the  redemption  of  a  lost 
world,  by  the  sacrificial  offering  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  more  de- 
voutly and  frequently  impressed  on  the  minds  of  young 
hearers,  with  the  solemnity  of  that  obligation  ?  Let  proper 
warning  be  given,  and  strong  exhortation  to  due  preparation ; 
for  surely  it  is  as  possible  now  to  eat  and  drink  our  own  con- 
demnation in  England,  as  it  was  to  the  Greek  converts,  eighteen 
hundred  years  ago,  in  Corinth. 


he  had  not  yet  found  that  peace  and  assurance  of  which  he 
was  in  pursuit :  and  it  may  seem  strange,  that  one  who  was 
following  God  so  sincerely,  should  have  been  so  long  without 
that  powerful  consolation  of  religion.  But  God  is  Sovereign 
of  his  own  ways;  and  he  gives  and  withholds  according  to  his 
godly  wisdom.  Adam  was  ever  ready  to  vindicate  the  ways 
of  God  in  this  respect.  "It  was  necessary,"  said  he,  "that  / 
should  have  hard  travail.  God  was  preparing  me  for  an  im- 
portant work.    I  must,  emphatically,  sell  all  to  get  the  pearl 


« 


"  Seemed  to  sit  with  cherubs  bright, 
Some  moments  on  a  throne  of  love,' 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  GOD. 


101 


of  great  price.  If  I  had  lightly  come  by  the  consolations  of 
the  Gospel,  I  might  have  let  them  go  as  lightly.  It  was  good 
that  I  bore  the  yoke  in  my  youth.  The  experience  that  1 
learned  in  my  long  tribulation,  -was  none  of  the  least  of  my 
qualifications  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel." 

He  wras  now  come  to  that  point,  beyond  which  God  did  not 
think  proper  any  longer  to  delay  the  manifestation  of  Himself 
to  the  soul  of  his  ardent  follower:  and  indeed  such  were  his 
concern  and  distress,  that  had  it  been  longer  deferred,  the  spi- 
rit that  God  had  made,  Avould  have  failed  before  him. 

One  morning,  in  great  distress  of  soul,  he  went  out  to  his 
work  in  the  field :  he  began,  but  could  not  proceed,  so  great 
was  his  spiritual  anguish.  He  fell  down  on  his  knees  on  the 
earth,  and  prayed,  but  seemed  to  be  without  powrer  or  faith. 
He  arose,  endeavoured  to  work,  but  could  not :  even  his  phy- 
sical strength  appeared  to  have  departed  from  him.  He  again 
endeavoured  to  pray,  but  the  gate  of  heaven  seemed  as  if  bar- 
red against  him.  His  faith  in  the  Atonement,  so  far  as  it  con- 
cerned himself,  was  almost  entirely  gone;  he  could  not  believe 
that  Jesus  had  died  for  him  ;  the  thickest  darkness  seemed  to 
gather  round,  and  settle  on  his  soul.  He  fell  flat  on  his  face 
on  the  earth,  and  endeavoured  to  pray,  but  still  there  was  no 
answer :  he  arose,  but  he  was  so  weak,  that  he  could  scarcely 
stand.  His  agonies  were  indescribable  ;  he  seemed  to  be  for 
ever  separated  from  God  and  the  glory  of  His  power.  Death. 
in  any  form,  he  could  have  preferred  to  his  present  feelings,  if 
that  death  could  have  put  an  end  to  them.  No  fear  of  hell 
produced  these  terrible  conflicts.  He  had  not  God's  approba- 
tion; he  had  not  God's  image.  He  felt  that  without  a  sense 
of  his  favour,  he  could  not  live.  Where  to  go,  what  to  say, 
and  what  to  do.  he  found  not ;  even  the  words  of  prayer  at  last 
failed ;  he  could  neither  plead  nor  wrestle  with  God. 

O,  Reader,  lay  these  things  to  heart.  Here  was  a  lad  that 
had  never  been  a  profligate,  had  been  brought  up  in  the  fear  of 
God,  and  who,  for  a  considerable  time  had  been  earnestly  seek- 
ing His  peace,  apparently  cut  off  from  life  and  hope !  This  did 
not  arise  from  any  natural  infirmity  of  his  own  mind : — none 
who  knew  him,  in  any  period  of  his  life,  could  suspect  this : — 
it  was  a  sense  of  the  displeasure  of  a  holy  God,  from  bavin? 
sinned  against  him ;  and  yet  his  sins  were  those  of  a  little 
boy,  which  most  would  be  disposed  to  pass  by  ;  for  he  was  not 
of  an  age  to  be  guilty  of  flagrant  crimes  ;  and  yet  how  sorely 
did  he  suffer,  in  seeking  to  be  born  again ;  to  have  his  con- 
science purged  from  dead  vorks,  and  to  have  his  nature  re- 
newed!— He  was  then  bein?  prepared  for  that  work  to  which 
lie  was  afterwards  to  be  called  ;  the  struggle  was  great,  that 
he  himself  might  not  easily  turn  again  to  folly,  and  thus  bring 
condemnation  on  himself,  and  a  reproach  upon  God's  cause  ; 
and  it  was,  in  all  probability,  necessary  that  he  should  expe- 


MB 


ACQUAINTANCE  AND 


rience  this  deep  anguish,  that  feeling  the  bitterness  of  sin  he 
might  warn  others  more  earnestly;  and  knowing  the  throes 
and  travail  of  a  sinner's  soul,  he  might  speak  assuredly  to  the 
most  despairing,  of  the  power  of  Christ's  Sacrifice,  and  tf  the 
indwelling  consolations  of  the  Spirit  of  God. —  God  appeared 
to  have  turned  aside  his  ways,  and  pxdled  him  to  pieces,-— 
He  had  bent  his  bow,  and  made  him  a  mark  for  His  arrows: 
he  was  filed  with  bitterness,  and  made  drunken  as  with  worm- 
wood:— his  soul  was  removed  far  off' from  peace,  and  he  for- 
got prosperity.  Yet  even  here,  though  his  stroke  was  heavier 
than  his  groaning,  he  could  say,  "  It  is  of  the  Lord's  mercies 
that  I  am  not  consumed." — Lam.  iii.  11 — 22.  See  him  in  his 
agony  upon  the  bare  ground,  almost  petrified  with  anguish, 
and  dumb  with  grief!  Reader,  hast  thou  sinned  ?  Has?  thou 
repented?  Hast  thou  peace  with  thy  God,  or  art  thou  still  in 
the  gall  of  bitterness,  and  bond  of  iniquity?  These  are  solemn, 
yea,  awful  questions.  May  God  enable  thee  to  answer  them 
to  the  safety  of  thy  soul ! 

But  we  must  return  to  him  whom  we  have  left  in  agonies  in- 
describable. It  is  said,  the  lime  of  man's  extremity  is  the  time 
of  God^s  opportunity.  He  now  felt  strongly  in  his  soul,  Pray 
to  Christ  ;— another  word  for,  Come  to  the  Iloiiest  through  the 
Blood  of  Jesus.  He  looked  up  confidently  to  the  Saviour  of 
sinners,  his  agony  subsided,  his  soul  became  calm.  A  glow 
of  happiness  seemed  to  thrill  through  his  whole  frame,  all 
guilt  and  condemnation  were  gone.  He  examined  his  con- 
science, and  found  it  no  longer  a  register  of  sins  against  God. 
He  looked  to  heaven,  and  all  was  sunshine  ;  he  searched  for  his 
distress,  but  could  not  find  it.  He  felt  indescribably  happy, 
but  could  not  tell  the  cause  ;— a  change  had  taken  place  within 
him,  of  a  nature  wholly  unknown  before,  and  for  which  he  had 
no  name.  He  sat  down  upon  the  ridije  Avhere  he  had  been 
working,  full  of  ineffable  delight.  He  praised  God,  and  he 
could  not  describe  for  what, — for  he  could  give  no  name  to  his 
work.  His  heart  was  light,  his  physical  strength  returned, 
and  he  could  bound  like  a  roe.  He  felt  a  sudden  transition 
from  darkness  to  light — from  guilt  and  oppressive  fear,  to  con- 
fidence and  peace.  He  could  now  draw  nigh  to  God  with 
more  confidence  than  he  ever  could  to  his  earthly  father: — he 
had  freedom  of  access,  and  he  had  freedom  of  speech.  He 
was  like  a  person  who  had  got  into  a  new  world,  where  al- 
though every  object  was  strange,  yet  each  was  pleasing;  and 
now  he  could  magnify  God  for  his  creation,  a  thing  he 
never  could  do  before!  O  what  a  change  was  here  !  and  yet, 
lest  he  should  be  overwhelmed  with  it,  its  name  and  its  nature 
were  in  a  great  measure  hidden  from  his  eyes.  Shortly  after, 
his  friend  Mr.  Barber  came  to  his  father's  house:  when  he 
departed,  Adam  accompanied  him  a  little  on  the  way.  When 
they  came  in  sight  of  the  field  that  had  witnessed  the  agonies 


FKACU  WITH  COD. 


103 


of  his  heart  and  the  breaking  of  his  chains,  he  told  Mr.  R. 
what  hail  taken  place.  The  man  of  God  took  oil' his  hat.  and 
with  tears  Bowing  down  his  cheeks,  gave  thanks  unto  God. 
"O  Adam,"  said  he,  "I  rejoice  in  this  ;  I  have  been  daily  in  ex- 
pectation that  God  would  shine  upon  your  soul,  and  bless  you 
with  the  adoption  of  his  children."  Adam  stared  at  him,  and 
said  within  himself,  "  O,  he  thinks  surely  that  I  am  justified, 
that  God  has  forgiven  me  my  sins,  that  I  am  now  his  child. 
O,  blessed  be  God,  I  believe,  I  feel  I  am  justified,  through  the 
Redemption  that  is  in  Jesus."  Now  he  clearly  saw  what  God 
had  done;  and  although  he  had  felt  the  blessing  before,  and 
was  happy  in  the  possession  of  it,  it  was  only  now  that  he 
could  call  it  by  its  name.  Now,  he  saw  and  felt,  that  "being 
justified  by  faith,  he  had  peace  with  God,  through  our  Loru 
Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  he  had  received  the  atonement/' 

He  continued  in  peace  and  happiness  all  the  week:  the 
next  Lord's  day  there  was  a  love-feast  in  Coleraine ; — he  went 
to  it,  and  during  the  first  prayer,  kneeled  in  a  corner  with  his 
face  to  the  wall.  While  praying,  the.  Lord  Jesus  seemed  to 
appear  to  the  eyes  of  his  mind,  as  he  is  described,  Rev.  i.  13, 
14.  clothed  xcitha  garment  down  to  his  feet,  and  girt  about 
the  breasts  with  a  golden  girdle :  his  head  and,  his  hair  white 
as  snow,  and  his  eyes  like  a  flame  of  fire.  And  though  in 
strong  prayer  before,  he  suddenly  stopped,  and  said,  though  not 
perhaps  in  a  voice  to  be  heard  by  those  who  were  by  him — 
"  Come  nearer,  Oh !  Lord  Jesus,  that  I  may  see  thee  more  dis- 
tinctly." Immediately  he  felt  as  if  God  had  shone  upon  the  work 
he  had  wrought,  and  called  it  by  its  own  name;  he  fully,  and 
clearly  knew  that  he  was  a  child  of  God  ;  the  Spirit  of  God 
bore  this  witness  in  his  conscience,  and  he  could  no  more 
have  doubted  of  it,  than  he  could  have  doubted  of  the  reality 
of  his  existence,  or  the  identity  of  his  person. — 

"  Meridian  evidence  put  doubt  to  flight." 

In  ordinary  minds,  or  those  naturally  /ceWe,  all  this  might 
pass  for  delusion ;  his  penitential  fears'and  distresses  might 
appear  as  the  effects  of  a  gloomy  superstition  ;  and  his  sub- 
sequent peace  and  happiness,  and  the  sudden  nature  of  his 
inward  change,  as  the  consequences  of  the  workings  of  a 
strong  imagination,  apt,  under  religious  impressions,  to  de- 
generate into  enthusiasm. 

The  Reader  may  rest  assured  that  no  one  was  more  jealous 
on  these  points  than  the  person  in  question.  He  was  accus- 
tomed to  examine  every  thing  to  the  bottom ;  and,  as  it  ever 
was  a  maxim  with  him,  that  Revelation  and  reason  went 
hand  in  hand  ; — that  neither  contained  any  thing  contrary  to 
the  other ;— so  he  sought  in  each,  for  proofs  of  those  things 
contained  in  its  fellow.    He  was  ever  afraid  of  being  deceived, 


ion 


REFLECTIONS  ON  THE 


and  that  led  him  scrupulously  to  examine  every  thing  that 
professed  to  come  from  God.  He  believed  nothing  in  salva- 
tion on  the  mere  assertion  of  any  man  :  nor  did  he  yield  con- 
sent at  any  time,  till  Revelation  and  its  handmaid  reason,  had 
said,  these  things  are  true. 

Preaching  once  in  Plymouth,  on  the  Witness  of  the  Spirit 
in  the  souls  of  believers : — after  having  produced  and  com- 
mented on  those  Scriptures,  which  are  supposed  most  point- 
edly to  contain  that  doctrine,  he  said, — 

"It  might  have  been  doubted  that  we  have  misunderstood 
these  Scriptures,  and  made  them  the  basis  of  an  article,  which 
they  do  not  fairly  and  naturally  support,  if  the  general  testi- 
mony of  all  the  sincere  converts  to  the  gospel  of  Christ  had 
not  illustrated  the  facts ;  and  had  not  the  experience  of  those 
converts  been  uniform  in  this  particular,  while  in  many  cases, 
their  habits  of  life,  education,  and  natural  temperament,  were 
widely  different.  And  this  not  only  among  persons  bred  up 
with  the  same  general  views  of  Christianity, — in  the  same 
Christian  communion  ;  but  among  persons  bred  up  in  different 
communions,  with  creeds  in  many  respects  diametrically  op- 
posite to  each  other  !  And  farther,  this  has  been  the  same  in 
persons  of  different  climates  and  countries.  All  those  who 
have  been  convinced  of  sin,  righteousness,  and  judgment — 
have  truly  repented  of  their  sins,  and  taken  refuge  in  the  Blood 
of  the  Cross  ;  have  had  their  burden  of  guilt  taken  away,  and 
the  peace  of  God  communicated,  and  with  it  the  Spirit  of  God 
witnessing  with  their  spirit  that  they  were  the  sons  and 
daughters  of  God  Almighty :  so  that  they  had  no  more  doubt 
of  their  acceptance  with  God,  than  they  had  of  their  existence. 

"But  it  may  be  objected  farther: — the  human  mind  easily 
gets  under  the  dominion  of  superstition  and  imagination  ;  and 
then  a  variety  of  feelings,  apparently  divine,  may  be  accounted 
for  on  natural  principles.  To  this  I  answer — 1st.  Superstition 
is  never  known  to  produce  settled  peace  and  happiness, — it  is 
generally  the  parent  of  gloomy  apprehensions  and  irrational 
fears:  but  surely  the  man  who  has  broken  the  laws  of  his 
Maker,  and  lived  in  open  rebellion  against  him,  cannot  be  sup- 
posed to  be  under  the  influence  of  superstition,  when  lie  is  ap- 
prehensive of  the  wrath  of  God,  and  fears  to  fall  into  the  bitter 
pains  of  an  eternal  death?  Such  fears  are  as  ratioiud  as  they 
arc  scriptural  ;  and  the  broken  and  contrite  heart,  is  ever  con- 
sidered, ihrou^h  the  whole  Oracles  of  God,  as  essentially  ne- 
cessary to  the  finding  redemption  in  Christ.  Therefore,  such 
fears,  feelings  and  apprehensions,  are  not  the  offspring  of  a 
gloomy  superstition  ;  but  the  fruit  and  evidence  of  a  genuine 
scriptural  repentance.  2dly.  Imagination  cannot  long  sup- 
port a  mental  imposture.  To  persuade  the  soul  that  it  is  passed 
from  darkness  to  light, — that  it  is  in  the  favor  of  God, — that  it 
is  an  heir  of  glory,  &c,  will  require  strong  excitement  indeed: 


WITNESS  01'  THE  SPIRIT. 


105 


and  the  stronger  the  exciting  cause,  or  stimulus,  the  sooner 
the  excitability,  and  its  effects  will  be  exhausted.  A  person 
may  imagine  himself  for  a  moment  to  be  a  king,  or  to  be  a 
child  of  God;  but  that  reverie,  where  there  is  no  radical  de- 
rangement of  mind,  must  be  transient.  The  person  must  soon 
awake  and  return  to  himself.  3d.  But  it  is  impossible  that  ima- 
gination can  have  any  thing  to  do  in  this  case,  any  farther  than 
any  other  faculty  of  the  mind,  in  natural  operation  :  for,  the 
person  must  walk  according  as  he  is  directed  by  the  Word  of 
God,  abhorring  evil,  and  cleaving  to  that  which  is  good :  and 
the  sense  of  God's  approbation  in  his  conscience,  lasts  no  long- 
er than  he  acts  under  the  spirit  of  obedience:  God  continuing 
the  evidence  of  his  approbation  to  his  conscience  while  hewalks 
in  newness  of  life.  Has  imagination  ever  produced  a  life  of 
piety?  Now,  multitudes  are  found  who  have  had  this  testi- 
mony uninterruptedly  for  many  years  together.  Could  imagi- 
nation produce  this  1  If  so,  it  is  an  unique  case  ;  for  there  is 
none  other  in  which  an  excitement  of  the  imagination  has  sus- 
tained the  impression  with  any  such  permanence.  And  all 
the  operations  of  this  faculty  prove,  that,  to  an  effect  of  this 
kind,  it  is  xoholiy  inadequate.  If  then  it  can  sustain  impres- 
sions in  spiritual  matters  for  years  together,  this  must  be  totally 
preter  natural,  and  the  effect  of  a  miraculous  operation; — and 
thus  miracle  must  be  resorted  to,  to  explain  away  a  doctrine, 
which  some  men.  because  they  themselves  do  not  experience 
it,  deny  that  any  others  can. 

"  But  might  I,  without  offence,  speak  a  word  concerning  my- 
self? A  great  necessity  alone,  would  vindicate  to  my  own 
mind  the  introduction,  in  this  public  way,  of  any  thing  relative 
to  myself.  But  you  will  bear  with  my  folly,  should  any  of 
you  think  it  such.  I,  also;  have  professed  to  know  that  God, 
for  Christ's  sake,  hath  forgiven  me  all  my  sins  ;  and  being  thus 
converted,  I  am  come  forth  to  strengthen  my  brethren,  and  preach 
among  the  Gentiles  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ.  Most 
of  you  know  that  I  am  no  enthusiast, — that  I  have  given  no 
evidences  of  a  strong  imagination, — that  I  am  far  from  being 
the  subject  of  sudden  hopes  or  fears, — that  it  requires  strong 
reasons  and  clear  argumentation  to  convince  me  of  the  truth 
of  any  proposition,  not  previously  known.  Now,  1  do  profess 
to  have  received,  through  God's  eternal  mercy,  a  clear  evidence 
of  my  acceptance  with  God ;  and  it  was  given  me  after  a  sore 
night  of  spiritual  affliction  ;  and  precisely  in  that  way  in  which 
the  Scriptures,  already  quoted,  promise  this  blessing.  It  has 
also  been  accompanied  with  power  over  sin;  and  it  is  now 
upwards  of  seven  years  since  I  received  it,  and  I  hold  it, 
through  the  same  mercy,  as  explicitly,  as  clearly,  and  as 
satisfactorily  as  ever.  No  work  of  imagination  could  have 
ever  produced  or  maintained  any  feeling  like  this.  I  am, 
fherelore,  safe  in  affirming,  for  all  these  reasons,  that  we 


106  RELIGION  IS  FOR  MAN,  NOT  GOO. 

have  neither  misunderstood  nor  misapplied  the  Scriptures  in 
question." 

The  subsequent  experience  of  A.  C.  equally  verified  the  truth 

of  the  preceding  statements. 


We  have  now  brought  down  the  account  of  this,  in  many 
respects,  singular  person,  to  an  era  which  he  ever  considered 
the  most  important  in  his  religious  life :  for  now  he  had  gain- 
ed decisive  experimental  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  articles  of 
his  creed:  and  each  point  was  confirmed  to  him  witli  greater 
evidence.  Now,  he  could  give  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  was 
in  him ;  and  in  every  respect,  his  oavu  faith  was  justified  to 
his  understanding.  He  had  found  true  happiness  in  religion: 
and  this  he  knew  it  must  afford,  if  it  were  of  God:  for  he 
saw,  that  Religion  was  a  commerce  between  God  and  man  ; 
and  was  intended  to  be  the  means  of  re-establishing  him  in 
that  communion  with  his  Maker,  and  the  happiness  conse- 
quent on  it,  which  he  had  lost  by  the  fall. 

All  notions  of  religion,  merely  as  a  system  of  ditties  which 
we  owe  to  God,  fell,  in  his  apprehension,  infinitely  short  of  its 
nature  and  intention.  To  the  perfection,  happiness,  or  grati- 
fication, of  the  infinite  mind,  no  creature  can  be  necessary. 
Religion  was  not  made  for  God  ;  but  for  man.  It  is  an  insti- 
tution of  the  Divine  Benevolence,  for  human  happiness.  Nor 
can  God  be  pleased  with  any  man's  religion  or  faith,  but  as 
far  as  thev  lead  him  to  happiness, — i.  e.  to  the  enjoyment  of 
God  ;  without  which  there  can  he  no  felicity  ;  for  God  is  the 
Source  of  intellectual  happiness,  and  from  him  alone,  it  can 
be  derived :  and  in  union  with  whom  alone,  it  can  be  enjoy- 
ed. Animal  gratifications  may  be  acquired  by  means  of  the 
various  matters  that  are  suited  to  the  senses:  but  gratification 
and  happiness  are  widely  different :  the  former  may  exist  where 
the  latter  is  entirely  unknown. 

After  this,  A.  C.  continued  a  little  longer  at  school.  Though 
he  could  not  well  enter  into  the  spirit  of  Lucian  and  Juvenal, 
which  he  then  read ;  yet  he  was  surprised  to  find  how  easy, 
in  comparison  of  former  times,  learning  appeared.  The  grace 
which  he  had  received,  greatly  illumined  and  improved  his 
understanding  and  judgment.  Difficulties  seemed  to  have 
vanished,  and  learning  appeared  now  little  more  to  him,  than  an 
exercise  and  cultivation  of  memory.  He  has  been  often  heard 
to  say:  "After  I  found  the  peace  of  (Sod  to  my  conscience  ; 
and  was  assured  of  my  interest  in  tha  Lord  Jesus ;  I  believe 
I  may  safely  assert,  that  I  learned  more  in  one  day,  on  an 
average,  than  formerly  I  could  do,  with  equal  application,  in 
a  whole  month.  And  no  wonder,  my  soul  began  to  rise  out 
of  the  ruins  of  its  fall,  by  the  favour  of  the  P'ternal  Spirit. 


t INTELLECT  BRIGHTENED  BY  SPIRITUAL  KNOWLEDGE. 


107 


It  was  not  on  the  affections  or  the  passions,  this  Spirit  work- 
ed ;  but  upon  understanding,  judgment,  and  will:  these  be- 
ing rectified  and  brought  under  a  divine  influence,  the  lower 
faculties  came  on  in  their  train,  purified  and  refined.  The 
change  in  my  heart  was  the  effect  of  the  change  in  my  im- 
mortal spirit.  I  saw,  from  my  own  case,  that  religion  was 
the  gate  to  true  learning  and  science  ;  and  that  those  who  went 
through  their  studies  without  this,  had,  at  least,  double  work 
to  do  ;  and,  in  the  end,  not  an  equal  produce.  My  mind  be- 
came enlarged  to  take  in  any  thing  useful.  I  was  now  sepa- 
rated from  every  thing  that  could  impede  my  studies,  obscure 
or  debase  my  mind.  Learning  and  science  I  knew  came  from 
God,  because,  he  is  the  Fountain  of  all  knowledge :  and,  pro- 
perly speaking,  these  things  belong  to  man  ; — God  created 
them,  not  for  Himself  —  not  for  angels — but  for  man  ;  and  he 
fulfils  not  the  design  of  his  Creator,  who  does  not  cultivate  his 
mind  in  all  useful  knowledge,  to  the  utmost  of  his  circum- 
stances and  power." 

At  the  same  time,  he  was  convinced  that  studies,  which 
were  not  connected  with  religion,  and  which  did  not  lead  to 
God,  not  having  His  will  and  glory  for  their  objects,  could 
never  be  sanctified ;  and  consequently,  could  never  be  ulti- 
mately useful,  either  to  their  possessors,  or  to  others. 

As  he  was  told  by  the  highest  authority,  that  "  the  heavens 
declare  the  glory  of  God  ;  the  firmament  showeth  fortli  his 
handy  work;"  and,  as  were,  inspection  served  only  io  fill  him 
with  wonder  and  astonishment,  without  giving  him  such  in- 
formation as  might  enlarge  the  boundaries  of  knowledge,  he 
wished  much  to  gain  some  acquaintance  with  the  science  of 
astronomy.  About  this  time  a  friend  lent  him  that  incompa- 
rable work  of  Dr.  Derham,  entitled  Astro-theology :  and  an- 
other particular  friend,  made  him  a  present  of  a  small,  but  ex- 
cellent, achromatic  telescope.  The  Bible  and  Dr.  Derham 
he  read  in  union,  at  all  spare  limes  of  the  day :  and  his  tele- 
scope he  used  as  often  as  possible  in  the  night  season.  He 
was  delighted  with  the  phases  of  the  moon;  and  these  he 
carefully  watched  through  her  decrease  and  increase ;  and 
found  little  difficulty  in  the  belief  that  the  moon  was  a  habit- 
able and  inhabited  world  :  and  that  all  the  planetswere  doubt- 
less the  same  : — all  of  them,  abodes  of  intelligent  beings,  form- 
ed and  supported  by  the  same  beneficent  hand,  and  in  reference 
to  the  same  gracious  end. 

Ray's  Wisdom  of  God.  in  the  Creation,  gave  him  still  more 
particular  information,  and  was  the  means  of  directing  his 
mind  to  the  study  of  natural  philosophy.  All  these  things 
were  the  means  of  establishing  his  soul  in  the  thorough  belief 
of  the  truth:  and.  as  these  authors  professedly  shew  God  in 
His  Works,  so  his  faith  stood,  not  in  the  wisdom  of  man,  but 
in  the  power  of  God.    The  doctrine  of  graritation,  was  to 


108 


INCREASE  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


him  a  series  of  wonders  in  itself;  and  the  centripetal  and 
centrifugal  motions  of  all  the  planets,  primary  and  secondary, 
gave  him  the  most  exalted  idea  of  the  wisdom,  skill,  and  pro- 
vidence of  God.  Though  he  had  no  instructer  in  these  things, 
and  no  instruments  but  his  little  telescope,  yet  he  gained  so 
much  philosophical  knowledge,  as  gave  him  to  see  the  hand 
of  God  in  every  tree,  plant,  and  stone,  while  he  had  scarcely 
any  objects  but  his  native  fields,  and  never  went  abroad  to 
.uingle  with  the  gay  or  the  giddy — the  scientific  or  the  polite. 

And  thus  his  life,  exempt  from  public  haunts, 
Found  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing." 

And  although  he  was  not  favoured  by  what  is  called  for- 
tune, yet  he  was  the  constant  care  of  Providence;  and  he 
>vas  taught  to  watch  its  openings,  and  make  the  best  of  his 
circumstances. 

"  Happy  was  he, 
That  could  translate  the  stubbornness  of  fortune 
Into  so  quiet  and  so  sweet  a  still." 

The  knowledge  of  hard  words  in  those  sciences,  he  obtained 
from  a  very  useful,  but  now  almost  unknown  work,  entitled, 
Dictionarum  Anglo  Britannicuvt,  or,  A  General  English 
Dictionary :  by  John  Kersey,  8vo.  Lond.  1715.  A  Dictionary 
yhich  contains  more  valuable  matter  for  students,  than  any 
vther  of  its  size  yet  offered  to  the  public.  The  Dictionary  of 
J'enj.  Martin,  which  he  afterwards  got,  was  also  very  useful. 
This  latter  work  he  always  considered,  for  correctness  of  ety- 
mology, and  accuracy  of  definition,  by  far  the  best  on  its  plan, 
before  or  since  published. 

But  we  must  leave  him  as  to  his  literary  pursuits,  for  a  while, 
that  we  may  see  him  labouring  to  promote  the  best  interests 
of  his  own  family,  his  neighbours,  and  his  school-fellows. 

Except  on  the  Lord's  Day,  family  prayer  was  not  observed 
in  his  lather's  house.  This  was,  to  him,  a  cause  of  great 
ilfliction.  He  laboured  to  get  it  established  ;  but  all  in  vain, 
•  nless  himself  would  officiate  !  This  he  found  a  cross  which 
:ie  feared  he  should  never  be  able  to  take  up,  or,  if  taken  up, 
be  able  to  bear.  His  youth  was  his  principal  hinderance.  This 
burthen,  however,  it  appeared  God  had  laid  upon  his  con- 
science. He  struggled  against  it  for  a  while,  till  he  felt  con- 
demned in  his  own  mind.  At  last  be  took  up  this,  to  him, 
tremendous  cross,  and  prayed  with  his  father,  mother,  and 
family:  they  were  highly  pleased;  and  as  long  as  he  was 
ruler  their  roof,  he  was,  in  this  respect,  their  chaplain:  yet, 
he  ever  felt  it  a  cross,  though  God  gave  him  power  to  bear  it. 
A  prayerless  family  has  God's  curse.  If  the  parents  will  not 
perform  family  prayer,  if  there  be  a  converted  child  in  the 


THE  FAMILY  BECOME  METHODISTS. 


109 


family,  it  devolves  on  him :  and  should  he  refuse,  he  will 
soon  lose  the  comforts  of  religion. 

The  conversation  of  Adam,  made  a  serious  impression  on 
all  the  family.  The  fear  of  God  spread  more  generally 
through  the  whole  than  ever :  the  Scriptures  were  more  care- 
fully read ;  and  private  prayer  was.  not  neglected.  At  the 
same  time  the  practice  of  piety  became  the  proof  of  the  preva- 
lence of  religious  principles  in  each.  His  fourth  sister,  Han- 
nah, entered  the  Methodist's  society  with  him,  and  was  a  long 
time  his  only  companion  in  the  family.  Adam  and  this 
sister  were  often  accustomed  to  walk  in  the  fields  and  talk 
about  God  and  their  souls ;  and  then  retire  for  prayer  to  God. 
This  young  woman  was  afterwards  married  to  Mr.  Thomas 
Exley,  M.  A.,  of  Bristol,  and  bore  him  several  children ;  and 
died  happy  in  God.    Her  children  all  became  pious. 

The  next  fruit  of  his  labour,  was  his  eldest  sister.  She  was 
a  cautious  sensible  woman  ;  and  did  not  join  the  society,  till 
she  was  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  truth  of  their  doctrines, 
and  the  excellency  of  their  discipline.  She  afterwards  mar- 
ried the  Rev.  W.  M.  Johnson,  LL.  D.,  Rector  of  St.  Perrans- 
Uthno,  in  Cornwall.  She  is  still  living,  and  has  a  numerous 
family. 

All  the  rest  of  the  family  became  constant  hearers  of  the 
Methodists  ;  and  most  of  them  members  of  the  society :  but 
as  he,  soon  after  the  period  of  which  we  are  now  speaking, 
removed  from  that  country,  he  did  not  witness  all  the  results 
of  his  own  labours.  His  parents  continued  to  entertain  the 
Methodist  Preachers,  while  they  lived:  and  most  of  their 
children  who  were  settled  in  life/have  had  the  same  honour. 

With  his  school-fellows,  A.  C.  was  not  inactive.  When 
he  had  opportunity,  he  spoke  to  them  concerning  their  salva- 
tion, and  incited  them  to  hear  the  Methodist  Preachers.  One, 
Andrew  Coleman,  who  was  much  attached  to  him,  heard  and 
became  deeply  in  earnest  for  his  salvation.  He  was  a  young 
man  of  fine  natural  parts,  and  a  good  scholar.  He  afterwards 
became  an  itinerant  preacher  among  the  Methodists :  but  his 
race,  though  it  promised  to  be  luminous,  was  very  short :  for 
in  consequence  of  lying  in  a  damp  bed,  he  had  a  premature 
and  deeply  regretted  death.  His  school-fellow,  Adam,  wrote 
a  short  account  of  him,  which  was  published  in  the  Methodist 
Memorial;  and  as  it  is  strictly  connected  with  the  present  nar- 
rative, and  contains  some  curious  information,  I  shall  here  in- 
sert it. 


u  Andrew  Coleman  was  born  in  Coleraine,  in  the  north  of 
Ireland,  of  very  respectable  parents.    As  he  appeared  to  have 
a  more  than  ordinary  taste  for  learning,  he  was  put  to  school 
at  an  earlv  age,  and  soon  made  great  progress  in  reading  and 
'  10 


110 


ACCOUNT  OF  ANDREW  COLEMAN. 


merchants'  accompts.  He  was  afterwards  removed  to  a  gram- 
mar-school, where  he  profited  beyond  all  his  fellows.  None 
of  his  own  standing,  could  keep  pace  with  him  ;  and  he  out- 
stripped many  who  had  begun  their  classical  course  long  be- 
fore him.  He  soon  became  master  of  the  Latin  and  Greek 
languages,  and  made  considerable  progress  in  Hebrew.  To 
these  studies  he  joined  geometry,  astronomy,  chronology,  his- 
tory, and  most  branches  of  the  mathematics.  As  he  was  re- 
markably blest  with  an  amazingly  comprehensive  mind,  and 
vigorous  retentive  memory,  he  fathomed  the  depth  of  every 
study,  and  could  not  be  contented  with  a  superficial  know- 
ledge of  any  subject.  The  acquisition  of  useful  learning  was 
more  to  him  than  his  necessary  food ;  and  he  neglected  no 
opportunity  of  cultivating  his  mind.  Whatever  he  read  he 
made  his  own  ;  and  whatever  he  learned,  he  retained ;  so  that 
his  stock  of  knowledge  was  continually  increasing. 

"  Owing  to  the  straitened  circumstances  of  his  parents, 
(who  had  been  reduced  to  great  want,  from  a  state  of  con- 
siderable affluence,)  he  was,  in  general,  unable  to  procure 
those  books  which  were  necessary  in  his  particular  studies ; 
so  that  in  many  cases  he  was  obliged  to  explore  his  way  in 
the  regions  of  science  without  any  other  light  or  guide  than 
that  which  the  Father  of  Lights  had  kindled  in  his  own  mind. 
But  notwithstanding  this  disadvantage,  to  which  might  be 
added,  his  very  delicate  constitution,  and  his  being  often  obliged 
to  work  hard  to  purchase  time  to  attend  his  school,  he  attained 
to  such  a  pitch  of  mental  cultivation  before  his  17th  year,  as 
few  have  been  able  to  acquire  in  the  course  of  a  long  life. 

"  Having  finished  his  classical  studies,  he  was  obliged  to 
take  up  a  little  school  in  order  to  procure  himself  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  as  the  impaired  state  of  his  parents'  circumstances 
did  not  permit  him  to  hope  for  any  assistance  from  that 
quarter.  What  he  acquired  by  his  -labours  in  this  way,  he 
gave  for  the  support  of  his  family,  and  often  went  whole  days 
without  food  that  he  might  help  to  support  those  from  whom 
he  received  his  being.  This  he  considered  as  one  of  his 
first  duties;  and  he  discharged  it  to  the  uttermost  of  his 
power. 

"  About  the  year  1778,  it  pleased  God  to  awaken  and  bring 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  one  of  his  school-fellows,  Mr. 
A.  C.,  now  one  of  our  travelling  preachers.  Asa  very  tender 
friendship  subsisted  between  those  two,  they  often  spoke  to- 
gether of  the  things  of  God,  and  attended  the  ministry  of 
Mr.  Thomas  Barber,  who  was  acting  as  a  Missionary  at  his 
own  cost,  and  emphatically  performing  the  work  of  an  Evan- 
gelist through  an  extensive  tract  of  country  near  the  sea- 
coasts  of  the  county  of  Antrim.  His  mind  was  soon  found  to 
be  very  susceptible  of  divine  impressions — it  became  gradually 
enlightened  :  and  having  earnestly  sought  redemption  in  the 


ACCOUNT  OF  ANDREW  COLEMAN. 


Ill 


blood  of  the  cross,  he  received  it,  to  the  unspeakable  joy  of 
his  soul. 

"  After  some  time  he  was  employed  as  a  class-leader,  and 
at  the  entreaties  of  several,  began  to  exhort  in  different  country 
places  in  the  vicinity  of  Coleraine.  Being  naturally  very 
timid,  it  was  some  time  before  he  could  be  prevailed  on  to 
take  a  text ;  and  when  he  at  last  submitted  his  own  judgment 
to  that  of  his  friends,  and  began  to  preach,  his  word  met  with 
universal  acceptance. 

"  In  July  1785,  he  was  well  recommended  to  the  Dublin 
Conference  as  a  fit  person  to  travel.  He  was  accordingly 
received  on  trial,  and  sent  to  the  Sligo  Circuit.  He  was  in  the 
18th  year  of  his  age,  and  nearly  six  feet  high,  the  rapid  growth 
of  his  body  appearing  to  keep  pace  with  that  of  his  mind. 
But  it  was  soon  found,  he  had  passed  the  meridian  of  his  life. 
The  circuit  to  which  he  was  sent,  was  a  severe  one — he  la- 
boured to  the  uttermost  of  his  power,  and  in  about  nine  months 
he  fulfilled  his  course,  having  fallen  into  a  rapid  consumption. 
He  returned  to  his  mother's  house  a  short  time  before  the  en- 
suing Conference ;  and  though  every  assistance  was  afforded 
him  by  the  amiable  Society  of  Coleraine,  and  the  affectionate 
family  in  which  he  received  his  education,  he  sunk  apace,  and 
having  suffered  awhile  with  the  utmost  patience  and  resigna- 
tion, he  fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  June  18th,  1786,  aged  18  years 
and  two  months,  and  soon  gained  the  blessed  region  where  the 
inhabitant  shall  no  more  say,  I  am  sick.  He  had  the  happi- 
ness of  seeing  his  mother  and  grandmother  brought  to  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  truth,  before  his  departure  ;  and  his  last 
words  to  them,  as  his  holy  soul  prepared  to  take  its  flight  into 
the  eternal  world,  were,  Follow  me  !  Mr.  Wm.  West  preach- 
ed his  funeral  sermon  out  of  doors,  to  an  audience  that  no 
house  could  contain:  and  the  high  estimation  in  which  he 
was  held,  was  evinced  by  the  many  thousands  who  attended 
his  remains  to  the  grave.  The  funeral  procession  extended 
more  than  half  a  mile  !  The  evening  before  he  died,  he  de- 
sired to  be  carried  out  in  his  chair  to  see  the  setting  sun :  his 
desire  was  complied  with  ;  and,  having  beheld  it  awhile  with 
pleasing  emotion,  till  it  sunk  under  the  horizon,  he  observed, 
'  This  sun  has  hitherto  been  partially  obscured  to  me,  but  it 
shall  be  no  more  so  for  ever  !'  And  about  the  time  it  began 
to  re-enlighten  that  part  of  the  earth,  his  happy  soul  soared 
away  to  the  regions  of  glory. 

"  To  many  it  might  appear  that  this  amiable  young  man 
was  taken  away  in  the  midst  of  his  usefulness.  But  a  little 
reflection  will  shew  us  that  God's  ways  are  all  equal.  He 
never  removes  any  of  his  servants  till  they  ha,ve  accomplished 
the  work  he  has  given  them  to  do.  Extraordinary  talents  are 
not  given  merely  in  reference  to  this  world. — They  refer  also 
to  eternity ;  and  shall  there  have  their  consummation,  and 


119 


ACCOUNT  OF  ANDREW  COLEMAN. 


plentitude  of  employ.  Far  be  it  from  God  to  light  up  such 
tapers  to  burn  only  for  a  moment  in  the  dark  night  of  life,  and 
then  to  extinguish  them  for  ever  in  the  damps  of  death. 
Heaven  is  the  region  where  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  per- 
fect live,  thrive,  and  eternally  expand  their  powers  in  the  ser- 
vice, and  to  the  glory  of  Him  from  whom  they  have  derived 
their  being. 

"  The  extensive  learning  of  Mr.  Coleman,  was  his  least 
excellence.  This  indeed,  he  accounted  but  dross  and  dung  in 
comparison  of  the  excellence  of  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ 
crucified.  Through  this,  the  world  and  all  its  enjoyments 
were  crucified  to  him.  It  was  this,  that  opened  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  to  his  soul,  supported  him  in  his  sufferings,  and 
caused  him  to  triumph  over  death. 

"  His  very  retentive  memory  has  already  been  noted :  when 
he  was  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  he  had  the  whole  of  the 
Common-Prayer  by  heart.  He  had  made  himself  such  a 
master  of  the  JEneid  of  Virgil,  and  the  Paradise  Lost  of 
Milton,  at  the  same  age,  that  on  the  mention  of  any  line  in 
either  of  those  poems,  he  could  immediately  tell  the  book  in 
which  it  occurred,  and  the  number  of  the  line!  His  natural 
disposition  was  uncommonly  amiable. — His  own  excellences 
were  so  deeply  hidden  from  himself,  that  the  foot  of  pride 
never  appeared  to  come  against  him.  He  was  a  steady  friend, 
and  a  most  affectionate  and  dutiful  child.  His  manner,  both 
in  preaching  and  conversation,  was  plain  and  artless.  He 
humbled  himself  at  the  feet  of  all :  and  the  invariable  lan- 
guage of  his  heart,  both  to  God  and  man,  was  What,  J  know 
not,  that  teach  thou,  me."* 


For  the  salvation  of  his  neighbours  Adam  Clarke  felt  an 
ardent  concern  :  he  spoke  to  each  of  them  concerning  spiritual 
things  as  often  as  he  had  opportunity — went  to  the  houses  of 
several,  and  wherever  it  was  acceptable,  prayed  with  them, 
and  read  a  portion  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  endeavoured  to 
expound  those  portions  which  best  suited  the  state  of  their 
minds. 

He  did  not  confine  his  labour  to  his  immediate  neighbourhood, 
but  went  several  miles  into  the  country,  in  all  directions,  ex- 
horting and  beseeching  the  people  to  turn  to  God.  In  such 
work  he  spent  the  whole  of  the  Sabbath.  Often  he  had  to  travel 
four,  six,  and  more  miles  on  the  Sabbath  morning  to  meet  a 
class.  As  those  classes  generally  met  about  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  he.was  obliged  in  the  winter  season,  to  set  out 

*  The  above  account  of  his  early  friend  was  written  by  Dr.  Clarke 
for  the  "  Methodist  Memorial." 


FIRST  PREACHING. 


113 


two  hours  before  daylight ;  and  frequently  in  snow,  rain,  frost, 
&c. ;  nor  did  any  kind  of  weather  ever  prevent  him  from  taking 
these  long  journeys.  Having  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in 
his  heart,  he  loved  the  souls  of  men,  and  found  no  difficulty  in 
obedience  : — "  Love  feels  no  load."  Obedience  is  painful  only 
to  him  who  has  not  the  love  of  God  in  his  soul. 

In  the  summer  time,  after  having  met  one  of  those  distant 
classes,  it  was  his  custom  to  go  to  the  top  of  some  mountain  or 
high  hill ;  and,  having  taken  a  view  of  the  different  villages 
which  lay  scattered  over  the  lower  country,  arrange  them  in 
his  mind,  proceed  to  that  which  was  nearest,  walk  into  it,  and 
enter  the  first  open  door  ;  and,  after  accosting  the  inhabitants 
with  Peace  be  to  this  house,  ask  them  if  they  were  willing  he 
should  pray  with  them  ?  When  they  consented,  he  then  in- 
quired whether  they  had  any  objection  to  call  in  a  few  of  their 
neighbours  ?  When  this  was  done,  he  generally  gave  out  a 
verse  of  a  hymn,  sung  it,  and  then  gave  them  an  exhortation, 
prayed  with  them,  and  departed  to  another  village,  pursuing 
the  same  method.  It  is  remarkable  that,  in  no  case  was  he 
ever  refused  the  permission  he  sought.  He  was  very  young, 
and  this,  with  his  very  serious  deportment,  and  the  singularity 
of  his  conduct,  made  in  all  cases  a  powerful  impression  in  his 
favour,  which  his  prayers  and  exhortations  never  failed  to  in- 
crease. On  this  plan  he  has  in  the  course  of  one  day,  visited 
nine  or  ten  villages  at  considerable  distances  from  each  other, 
and  from  his  own  home ;  and  spoke  publicly  as  many  times ! 
In  these  excursions  he  never  went  to  those  villages  where  the 
Methodists  had  established  preaching;  but  to  those  principally 
which  had  no  helper;  lying  at  a  considerable  distance  as  they 
generally  did  from  places  of  public  worship.  This  was  sore 
travail,  as,  besides  speaking  so  many  times,  he  has  walked 
above  twenty  miles,  and  often  had  little  if  any  thing  to  eat. 
But  he  went  on  his  way  rejoicing,  and  could  always  sing — 

"  When  I  do  my  Master's  will, 
I  carry  my  heaven  about  me  still." 

Though,  as  we  have  seen,  he  was  never  expert  at  figures,  yet 
ne  wished  to  learn  some  of  the  more  ornamental  branches  of 
the  mathematics  ;  and  for  this  end  his  father  placed  him  under 
the  care  of  a  very  eminent  mathematician  in  Coleraine.  He 
continued  with  this  gentleman  only  long  enough  to  learn  Dial- 
ling in  a  general  way  :  I  mention  this  circumstance,  because 
the  last  secular  act  of  his  life,  by  which  he  endeavored  to  gain 
his  bread,  was  performed  in  this  science.  An  acquaintance, 
Mr.  S.  H.  desired  A.  C.  to  make  him  a  horizontal  brass  dial 
for  his  garden.  Adam  provided  the  brass,  laid  on  the  lines, 
engraved  it  himself,  and  charged  for  the  instrument  Jive  shil- 
lings! He  called, for  this  moderate  compensation  for  his  skill 
and  labour  two  or  three  times ;  and  the  last,  just  before  he  left 
10* 


Ill 


CONTINUED  STUDIED. 


the  kingdom:  but  he  never  received  the  cash.  He  had  made 
several  before,  for  small  profits :  this  last  terminated  all  his 
opera!  ions  in  gnomonics. 

About  the  winter  of  1778  he  attempted  to  learn  French. 
There  was  no  person  in  the  neighbourhood  that  could  help 
him  in  the  language.  Mr.  Edward  Murphy,  of  great  emi- 
nence as  a  classical  teacher,  and  who  (hen  kept  his  school  in 
the  church  of  Desart  Martin,  not  far  from  Magherafelt,  was 
the  only  person  who  could  teach  the  language  in  that  country. 
He  went  thither,  lodged  with  a  friend,  several  miles  from  the 
place,  attended  Mr.  Murphy's  school,  walking  out  every  morn- 
ing and  back  every  night,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  and  sat  in 
the  cold  church  without  fire,  during  the  day.  This  was  severe 
work ;  but  in  no  case  did  ever  A.  C.  find  a  royal  road  to  any 
point  of  knowledge,  or  branch  of  learning. 

Adam  had  often  amused  himself  with  making  short  hymns, 
and  turning  several  of  the  Psalms  of  David  into  metre.  He 
once  even  undertook  Solomon's  Song;  and  turned  the  four 
first  chapters  into  stanzas  of  four  lines,  eights  and  sixes  !  but 
no  fragments  of  these  early  productions  remain,  or  can  be 
recovered.  When  his  judgment  became  a  little  more  ma- 
tured, he  devoted  his  rhyming  hours  to  much  better  purposes, 
and  paid  no  attention  to  the  truit  of  his  juvenile  attempts  in 
this  line,  for  which  he  entertained  no  kind  of  respect,  but 
merely  as  they  were  proofs  of  a  pious  and  sincere  mind. 

He  was  put  apprentice  to  Mr.  Francis  Bennet,  a  linen  mer- 
chant of  Coleraine  ;  and  a  distant  relative  of  his  own,  with 
every  prospect  of  secular  advantage.  This  was  in  opposition  to 
the  opinion  of  all  his  religious  friends;  who  were  fully  per- 
suaded that  God  had  called  him  to  a  diiferent  employment. 
His  parents,  however,  not  being  able,  as  has  already  been 
shewn,  to  put  him  in  the  regular  ministry,  thought  an  ap- 
prenticeship with  Mr.  Bennet,  on  the  advantageous  ground 
which  his  kindness  caused  him  to  propose,  was  a  direct  open- 
ing of  Providence,  which  would  eventually  lead  to  a  respecta- 
ble competency.  As  to  himself,  he  was  entirely  passive :  as 
yet  he  knew  not  the  design  of  the  Lord,  and  his  grand  point 
was, — not  to  get  money,  but  to  save  his  soul. 

He  went  at  first  a  month  on  trial ;  that  being  ended,  as  much 
to  Mr.  B.'s  satisfaction,  as  he  could  reasonably  wish  ;  his  pa- 
rents were  expected  to  take  the  first  opportunity  to  have  him  for- 
mally bound.  This  was  strangely  neglected  from  time  to  time, 
till  at  last  he  had  been  with  Mr.  Bennet  eleven  months.  Dur- 
ing this  time,  his  religious  friends  strongly  and  incessantly 
exhorted  him  not  to  enter  an  apprenticeship,  as  God  had  most 
assuredly  called  him  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  He  laid 
these  things  before  his  parents,  who  gave  them  their  most  de- 
cided negative,  and  insisted  on  his  continuance  with  Mr.  B. 
This  brought  him  into  great  perplexity  :  he  had  begun  to 


DISSUADED  FROM  ENGAGEMENT  IN  TRADE. 


116 


doubt  whether  the  business  was  such  a  one  as  would  well 
comport  with  his  spiritual  profit.  He  thought  he  saw  several 
things  in  it  that  he  could  hardly  do  with  a  clear  conscience ; 
and  particularly  he  saw  that  he  must  necessarily  be  much  ex- 
posed to  public  company,  in  attending  fairs  and  markets,  in 
order  to  purchase  the  linen  from  the  weavers.  A  clear  con- 
science he  thought  would  be  better  than  the  best  inheritance  ; 
and  he  was  perfectly  willing  to  earn  his  bread  with  the  sweat 
of  his  brow  at  the  most  laborious  and  servile  employment, 
rather  than  gain  thousands  with  the  prospect  of  suffering  spi- 
ritual loss. 

Mr.  John  Bredin,  an  eminent  minister  of  God,  was  then  on 
the  Coleraine  and  Londonderry  circuit.  He  paid  much  at- 
tention to  Adam,  lent  him  books,  and  took  considerable  pains 
to  instruct  him  in  the  most  important  matters,  and  to  cultivate 
his  mind.  He,  supposing  that  God  had  called  him  to  the 
work  of  the  ministry,  wrote  concerning  him  to  the  late  Rev. 
J.  "Wesley ;  who  kindly  offered  to  take  him  for  a  time  to  his 
great  school,  at  Kingswood,  near  Bristol ;  where  he  might  in- 
crease his  classical  knowledge,  have  the  opportunity  of  exer- 
cising his  ministerial  talents  in  the  various  societies  in  that 
neighbourhood,  and  thus  be  better  qualified  for  the  general 
work  of  the  ministry.  This  he  laid  before  his  parents,  who 
received  the  proposal  rather  with  indignation  than  with  mere 
dissatisfaction ;  and  entered  a  strong  protest  against  it.  At 
the  same  time  Mr.  Bennet  made  him  a  very  advantageous 
offer :  told  him  if  he  did  not  like  his  business  he  would  ad- 
vance him  money,  either  to  be  employed  in  some  business  at 
home,  or  to  trade  in  Irish  produce,  (butter,  hides,  and  tallow,) 
to  England.  This  proposal  he  diligently  concealed  from  his 
parents,  as  his  mind  now  strongly  led  him  to  embrace  the 
proposal  of  Mr.  Wesley,  and  to  go  to  England.  He  accord- 
ingly thanked  Mr.  Bennet  for  his  kind  offer,  but  told  him  that 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  quit  the  business :  and  in  a  short 
time  they  parted  in  a  state  of  friendship  and  affectionate  at- 
tachment, which  has  continued  to  the  present  day. 

Before  I  conclude  this  part  of  my  narrative,  I  must  mention 
some  circumstances  which  took  place  while  he  was  with  Mr. 
Bennet. 

On  many  accounts  his  residence  in  Coleraine  was  highly 
useful  to  his  religious  growth,  and  his  increase  in  useful 
knowledge;  though  he  had  some  trials  of  the  most  distressing 
kind.  He  had  now  the  opportunity  of  sitting  under  a  very 
instructive  and  powerful  ministry,  several  times  in  the  week ; 
and  conversing  with  a  deeply  religious  and  sensible  people. 
He  had,  and  enjoyed,  all  the  means  of  grace.  The  preaching 
at  Jive  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  found  peculiarly  useful, 
because  it  was  always  on  subjects  immediately  connected 
with  Christian  experience,  and  with  the  life  of  God  in  the 


lie 


STUDIES  AND  COMPANIONS. 


soul  oi"  man.  He  met  also  with  some  valuable  and  sensible 
friends  in  that  most  excellent  society,  among  whom  were  Mr. 
Bobert  Douthitt,  from  whose  conversation  and  almost  parental 
tenderness,  he  reaped  the  highest  profit.  The  two  Hunters, 
Andrew  and  William,  cared  much  for  his  soul,  and  watched 
over  him  for  good.  He  had  a  useful  companion  in  Mr.  John 
Ml Kenny,  whose  son  is  now  one  of  the  Missionaries  in  the 
Island  of  Ceylon.  Indeed  the  whole  of  that  most  excellent 
and  intelligent  society,  laboured  to  promote  his  welfare,  all 
believing  that  God  had  called  him  to  fill  some  important  office 
in  his  church. 

Dr.  Clarke  used  to  say,  "  Two  books  lent  me  by  Miss 
Younge,  of  Coleraine,  afterwards  Mrs.  Rutherford,  were 
rendered  useful  to  me  beyond  all  others  I  had  ever  read,  the 
Bible  excepted.  One  was  Mr.  Wesley's  Abridgment  of 
Mr.  Baxter 's  Saints'  Everlasting-  Best,  and  the  other  the 
Journal  of  Mr.  David  Braiuard,  Missionary  among  the 
American  Indians.  From  the  first  I  got  a  deeper  acquaint- 
ance with  experimental  Christianity  :  and  from  the  second  I 
imbibed  the  spirit  of  a  Missionary.  The  former  contributed 
to  make  me  a  belter  Christian;  and  the  latter  formed  my 
mind  to  the  model  of  the  Christian  Ministry.  If  I  continue 
to  be  a  Christian,  I  owe  it,  under  God,  to  the  former  ;  if  I  ever 
was  a  preacher,  I  owe  it,  under  the  same  grace,  to  the  latter?" 
On  this  account  he  always  expressed  the  highest  respect  for 
Mrs.  Rutherford  : — he  considered  her  as  a  mother  in  Israel,  and 
as  one  who  had  been  instrumental  to  him  of  great  good.  Mr. 
Rutherford's  preaching  was  also  a  great  blessing  to  him.  He 
was  a  good  and  useful  preacher,  and  an  unblemished  Christian. 
He  was  accustomed  to  come  to  the  parish  of  Agherton,  where 
A.  C.'s  father  resided,  and  to  preach  in  different  places.  Adam 
heard  him  every  where;  and  in  returning  from  the  places  of 
preaching,  was  in  the  habit  of  walking  behind  him,  and  took 
delight  in  literally  treading  in  his  steps :  this  was  before  he 
had  any  personal  acquaintance  with  him.  One  evening  Mr. 
R.  noticing  a  little  lad  trotting  after  him,  whom  he  had  often 
observed  at  the  preaching,  turned  about  and  said,  "  Well,  child, 
God  hath  said,  Hove  them,  that  love  me,  and  they  that  seek  me 
early  shall  find  me."  He  said  no  more,  and  Adam  pondered 
these  word's  in  his  heart ;  and  thus  reasoned  on  them  :  "  What 
does  he  mean  by  they  that  seek  me  early  ?  I  rise  early,  and 
my  first  work  is  prayer — is  that  what  is  meant  ?  No,  it  is  they 
who  seek  God  early  in  life — when  they  are  young:  then,  thus 
I  seek,  and  thus  I  will  seek  the  Lord.  He  said  also,  they  shall 
find  me:  others,  perhaps,  may  seek  and  not  find  ;  but  God  says 
to  the  young,  they  shall  find?  This  gave  him  great  en- 
couragement. Other  preachers  took  no  uotice  of  him ;  pro- 
bably supposing  that  one  so  young,  could  not  be  expected  to 
have  much  concern  for  his  soul.    Experience,  however,  has  in- 


A  HARDENED  SINNER  TURNED  TO  GOD. 


117 


disputably  shewn,  that  the  true  light  that  lighteneth  every  man 
that  cometh  into  the  world,  shines  often  very  powerfully  on 
infant  minds  :  and  that  we  cannot  be  too  attentive  to  their  cul- 
tivation, and  that  the  best  fruits  may  be  expected  from  a  careful 
management  of  such  soils.    But  to  return. — 

For  several  months  after  Adam  came  to  Mr.  Bennet's,  he  had 
a  grievous  crosSj  not  to  say  plague,  in  one  of  the  servants. — 
She  was  excessively  boisterous  and  profane :  rejected,  in  the 
most  awful  manner,  every  good  advice  which  was  given  to 
her  ;  she  seemed  to  have  an  implacable  enmity  against  Adam, 
because  he  was  religious:  and  strange  to  tell,  on  no  other 
ground. — Persecution  about  religion  is  rarely,  if  ever,  the  work 
of  the  human  heart  merely,  for  persecution  on  such  an  account, 
is  as  unnatural,  as  it  is  absurd.  It  is  the  two  spirits  that  are 
in  opposition  to  each  other.  Every  genuine  Christian  has  the 
spirit  of  God  in  him  ;  every  sinner  that  of  the  devil.  The  latter 
works  on  all  the  fallen  nature,  on  that  carnal  mind  especially 
which  is  enmity  against  God  ;  and  thus  the  poor  miserable  sin- 
ner is  diabolically  impelled  to  act  against  his  own  interests, 
often  against  the  clear  convictions  of  his  own  conscience ; 
and  thus  to  war  against  his  Maker.  Sucli  was  certainly  the 
case  with  that  servant.  Adam  bore  all  her  insolence  and  in- 
sults without  even  a  complaint.  "  O  Molly,  Molly,"  he  would 
say,  "you  will  surely  repent  for  this:  why  will  you  sin  against 
God,  and  your  own  soul  ?  have  I  ever  done  you  any  harm  ? 
have  I  even  spoken  one  cross  or  unkind  word  to  you  ?"  Her 

principal  answer  was,  "Ah,  d  your  Methodism  ;  and  d  

the  Methodists."  He  continued  to  pray  strongly  for  her,  that 
God  might  convert  her  soul.  His  prayers  were  at  last  heard: 
she  was  struck  with  the  deepest  convictions  a  human  heart 
could  feel,  or  a  human  mind  bear.  She  literally  roared  for  the 
disquiet  of  her  soul.  He  was  now  obliged  to  use  every  kind 
of  persuasive, — ransack  the  Bible  for  promises  to  sinners  peni- 
tent,— to  prevent  her  from  falling  into  absolute  despair.  She  was 
sometimes  so  terrified  at  the  apprehension  of  God's  judgments, 
the  sinfulness  of  her  heart,  and  the  wickedness  of  her  life,  that 
she  appeared  to  choose  strangling  rather  than  life ;  and  was  often 
on  the  verge  of  laying  violent  hands  upon  herself.  Her  con- 
tinual application  to  him  for  direction  and  advice,  was  at  last 
excessively  burdensome  :  because  her  mind  was  so  distracted, 
that  she  could  scarcely  profit  by  any.  She  had  been  a  strong 
sinner ;  and  now  she  was  arrested  by  a  strong  hand.  At  last, 
afterpassing  through  indescribable  mental  agony,  she  was  en- 
abled to  behold  the  Lamb  of  God  which  takes  away  the  sin  of 
the  world,  and  found  redemption  in  his  blood,  the  remission  of 
her  sins.  Now,  indeed,  the  lion  became  a  lamb.  All  her  fierce 
and  violent  tempers  were  removed  ;  she  became  meek  and 
gentle,  diligent  in  business,  and  fervent  in  spirit  serving  the 
Lord.    He  saw  her  thirty  years  after  this,  and  found  her  walk- 


1!S 


METHOD  OF  REPROVING. 


ing  steadily  in  the  way  that  leads  to  the  kingdom  of  God.  Let 
no  one  despair  of  the  salvation  of  even  the  most  hardened. — 
This  woman  has  since  acknowledged  that  she  has  often  felt 
the  keenest  twinges  of  conscience  when  she  has  been  most 
violent  in  her  contradicting  and  blaspheming. 

He  had  another  severe  cross  while  in  this  family.  There 
was  an  old  relative  of  the  family,  who  was  what  is  commonly 
called  bed-ridden,  and  being  left  to  the  care  of  the  servants,  she 
was  totally  neglected.  She  had  all  the  infirmities  of  old  age, 
was  very  disagreeable  in  her  manners,  and  crooked  in  her  tem- 
pers. On  these  accounts,  the  servants,  who  had  no  religion,  and 
little  humanity,  left  her  entirely  to  herself,  except  when  they 
carried  her  a  morsel  of  food.  Adam  was  accustomed  to  go 
into  her  room  every  night  to  speak  to  her  about  her  soul, 
and  pray  with  her.  Seeing  her  most  deplorable  and  desolate 
state,  he  took  upon  him,  after  remonstrating  with  the  maid- 
servants in  vain,  to  perform  for  her  the  most  humiliating  ser- 
vices; which,  with  the  circumstances  that  required  them, 
are  such  as  cannot  be  described.  These  he  continued  for 
several  months.  Death  at  last  relieved  her  from  life,  and  a 
load  of  uncommom  wretchedness,  and  him  from  an  oppressive 
load,  under  which  nothing  but  the  grace  of  God,  working  on  a 
nature  full  of  benevolence  and  charity,  could  have  supported 
him.  Known  to  God  alone,  are  the  services  he  performed  for 
this  woman,  and  the  distress  he  suffered  in  performing  them. 

AVith  another  circumstance,  which  took  place  during  his 
residence  with  Mr.  Bennet,  this  part  of  the  narrative  shall  be 
closed. 

He  had  long  held  it  his  duty  to  reprove  sin  wherever  he  met 
with  it,  and  indeed  he  could  scarcely  go  anywhere  without 
meeting  it.  His  manner  of  reproof  was  the  most  mild  and 
humble.  If  they  were  his  inferiors,  he  spoke  to  them  at  once  : 
if  they  were  his  equals  or  a  little  above,  he  sought  to  find  them 
alone,  and  then  affectionately  mentioned  the  impropriety  of 
their  conduct,  both  as  it  respected  God  and  themselves.  If 
they  were  removed  above  him  several  degrees,  he  generally 
wrote  to  them ;  always  signing  his  name :  for  he  could  not 
endure  the  pusillanimity  of  shrinking  under  the  covert  of  dark- 
ness, in  order  to  hide  himself  from  the  cross  of  Christ,  while 
endeavouring  to  perform  what  he  believed  to  be  his  duty : — 
most  took  it  well,  and  from  others  he  never  heard.  This 
however  became  a  heavy  burden  to  him  ;  and  he  longed  to  get 
out  of  that  public  life  where  he  witnessed  little  else  than 
vanity,  profaneness,  and  wickedness.  His  spirits  were  greatly 
worn  down,  and  his  bodily  strength  prostrated.  The  earliest 
entry  found  in  his  Journals  relates  to  this;  from  whicli  I  shall 
make  the  following  Extracts,  as  they  shew  the  tenderness  of 
his  conscience,  and  the  uprightness  of  his  heart.  I  shall  give 
them  in  his  own  artless  phrase. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY. 


119 


"Sept.  17,  1781.  Rose  before  five,  went  to  the  Barracks 
[a  place  so  called,  where  the  Methodists  preached.]  Came 
back  full  of  heaviness,  owing,  I  believe,  to  my  not  reproving 
sin;  for  I  heard  swear  1  faith''  on  Sunday  night.  Resolv- 
ed to  speak  concerning  this  the  first  opportunity.    Spoke  this 

morning  ;  I  believe  has  taken  it  ill.    Seeing  it  is  my  duty, 

Lord,  give  me  strength  to  persevere  in  it !  Though  all  the 
world  should  be  my  enemy,  if  God  be  on  my  side,  they  can- 
not be  successful  against  me.  Reproved  two  others  for  swear- 
ing, before  12  o'clock.  Lord  Jesus,  put  a  stop  to  the  tide  of 
iniquity  by  which  the  sons  of  corruption  are  carried  down  the 
stream  of  sin ;  and  turn  a  pure  language  upon  the  hearts  of 
the  people  !  Amen  ! 

"  Sept.  18.  Rose  this  morning  with  a  serene  mind.  Spent 
a  considerable  time  in  prayer.  O  may  I  be  preserved  this  day 
from  all  the  snares  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil, 
through  the  power  of  that  grace  which  is  ever  ready  to  help 
me !  Amen.  Read  the  xvth  chap,  of  John  :  O  may  I  be  a 
lively  experiencer  of  the  blessed  promises  contained  in  it. — 
Christ  tells  us,  if  we  abide  in  him.  he  will  abide  in  us  :  and 
that  severed  from  him,  we  can  do  nothing.  Forbid  it,  gracious 
Lord  !  that  I  should  ever  leave  thee  !  Then  shall  I  not  fear 
the  power  of  any  adversary.  Reproved  two  or  three  others 
to  day,  for  swearing:  I  dare  not  suffer  sin  upon  my  brother.-j— 
Read  the  xvith  chap,  of  John  :  eternal  praise  be  to  the  Lamb 
of  the  Most  High  God,  for  the  promise — In  the  world  ye  shall 
have  tribulation,  but  in  me  ye  shall  have  peace.  What  solid 
comfort  to  the  believer  is  contained  in  the  24th  verse, — Hith- 
erto ye  have  asked  nothing  in  my  name:  ask  and  ye  shall  re- 
ceive, that  your  joy  may  be  full." 

It  was  the  opinion  of  an  eminent  divine,  that  much  tempta- 
tion, as  well  as  prayer  and  reading,  are  necessary  to  make  a 
Christian  and  a  minister.  It  is  requisite  that  he  who  is  to  be 
a  judge  of  so  many  cases  of  conscience,  should  clearly  un- 
derstand them.  But  is  this  possible,  unless  he  have  passed 
through  those  states  and  circumstances,  on  which  these  cases 
are  founded  1  I  trow  not.  He  who  has  not  been  deeply  ex- 
ercised in  the  furnace  of  affliction  and  trial,  is  never  likely  to 
be  a  workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed,  rightly  dividing 
the  word  of  truth.  How  can  a  man,  unexperienced  in  spiritual 
trials,  build  up  the  Church  of  Christ ! 

That  he  might  not  trust  in  himself  or  any  thing  he  had  ac- 
quired, there  was  given  him  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  a  messenger 
of  Satan  to  buffet  him.  As  his  grand  enemy  could  not  suc- 
ceed in  tempting  him  to  commit  outward  sin,  he  strove  with 
all  his  skill  and  cunning,  to  harass  his  mind  ;  and  cause  him 
to  push  the  principles  which  regulate  moral  conduct  beyond 
their  natural  boundaries.  Fasting,  abstinence,  and  the  most 
solemn  regard  for  truth,  he  carried  to  the  utmost  pitch  of  scru- 


120 


DISTRESSING  DOUBTS. 


pulous  observance.  He  became  so  scrupulous  about  his  food, 
and  practised  such  an  excessive  degree  of  self-denial,  that  he 
was  worn  down  to  little  else  than  skin  and  bone. 

As  he  saw  the  world  full  of  hollow  friendships,  shallow 
pretensions  to  religion,  outsides  of  all  kinds,  and  real  substan- 
tial wickedness,  he  was  led  to  contemplate  the  Almighty 
as  the  God  of  truth,  and  the  God  of  justice.  His  views  of 
him  under  these  characters,  often  nearly  swallowed  up  his  soul  : 
and  the  terror  of  the  God  of  truth  and  justice  made  him 
afraid.  He  became  doubly  watchful  in  all  his  conduct: 
guarded  the  avenues  of  his  heart,  took  care  to  do  nothing  for 
which  he  had  not  the  authority  of  God's  "Word,  and  the  testi- 
mony of  his  conscience  ;  and  spoke  little  and  with  extreme 
caution.  From  this  he  was  led  to  analyze  bis  words  in  such 
a  way,  in  order  that  he  might  speak  nothing  but  what  was  in- 
dubitable truth  ;  that  at  last  every  thing  appeared  to  him  to  be 
hypothetical,  and  a  general  system  of  doubtfulness  in  every 
thing  relative  to  himself  took  place.  This  had  a  very  awful, 
and  indeed  almost  fatal,  effect  upon  his  memory,  so  much 
afraid  was  he  lest  he  should  say  any  thing  that  was  not  strictly 
true,  and  on  many  subjects  he  would  not  get  full  information, 
that  he  might  no  longer  affirm,  or  deny  any  thing.  He  dis- 
trusted his  memory  and  the  evidence  of  his  senses  so  much, 
that  the  former  seemed  to  record  transactions  no  longer,  and 
the  latter  only  served  for  personal  preservation.  When  he 
has  gone  an  errand,  and  returned,  he  has  given  in  the  most 

embarrassing  account.  "Adam,  have  you  been  at  ?"  "  I 

think  I  have,  Sir."   "Did  you  see  Mr.  ?"   "  I  believe  I 

did."  "  Did  you  deliver  the  message  ?"  "  I  think  so."  "  What 
did  he  say?"  "I  cannot  say:  I  am  not  sure  that  he  said  so 
and  so,  if  I  have  ever  been  there  and  seen  him ; — and  I  am 
not  sure  that  he  did  not  say  what  I  think  I  have  just  now  told 
you."  "  Why,  Adam,  I  cannot  tell  what  you  mean  !  Pray  be 
more  attentive  in  future."  After  some  time,  the  empire  of 
doubt  became  so  established,  that  he  appeared  to  himself  as  a 
visionary  being :  and  the  whole  world  as  little  else  than  a 
congeries  of  ill-connected  ideas.  He  thought  at  last,  that  the 
whole  of  life,  and  indeed  universal  nature,  was  a  dream :  he 
could  reflect  that  he  had  what  were  termed  dreams,  and  in 
them  all  appeared  to  be  realities,  but  when  he  awoke,  he  found 
all  unreal  mockeries:  and  why  might  not  his  present  state  be 
the  same  ?  At  length  he  doubted  whether  he  ever  had  such 
dreams ;  whether  he  ever  made  such  reflections,  or  whether 
he  ever  now  thought  or  reflected  !  However  ideal  all  this  may 
appear  to  the  Reader,  his  sufferings  in  consequence  were  most 
distressingly  real.  He  spoke  to  a  particular  friend  on  the  sub- 
ject: he  stared,  was  confounded,  knew  nothing  of  the  matter, 
and  could  give  him  no  advice.  After  suffering  exquisitely,  he 
went  to  one  of  the  preachers,  and  began  as  well  fie  could,  to 


DISTRESSING  DOUBTS. 


tii 


lay  his  case  before  him :  the  Preacher  said  abruptly — "  What, 
are  you  going  mad  ? — It  is  a  shame  for  you  to  be  occupied  with 
such  nonsense."  He  hastened  away  from  him,  and  never  after 
opened  his  mind  to  any  person  on  the  subject.  In  this  state 
of  distress  and  misery  he  continued  for  three  weeks,  and  they 
appeared  like  centuries.  He  prayed  much,  immediately  forgot 
that  he  had  prayed,  and  went  to  prayer  again  !  He  either  for- 
got to  do  what  he  was  ordered ;  or  forgot  when  he  had  done 
it  that  he  had  been  thus  employed,  and  wondered  to  find  the 
work  done  which  he  had  been  sent  to  execute,  though  himself 
a  little  before  had  been  the  agent !  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that, 
all  this  time,  the  being  of  God,  and  the  truth  of  the  Sacred 
Writings,  had  never  become  a  subject  of  doubt.  These  were 
the  foundations;  had  these  been  ideally  destroyed,  what 
could  his  righteous  soul  have  done?  He  was  sifted  as  wheat ; 
all  the  trials  he  ever  came  through,  were  nothing  compared 
with  this.  Why  was  it  suffered?  Partly  for  his  own  sake,  and 
partly  for  the  sake  of  others.  He  ever  felt  from  this,  how  so- 
vereignly necessary  was  the  curb  and  superintendence  of  rea- 
son, to  bind,  control,  connect  and  arrange  the  figments  of 
imagination,  and  the  excursions  of  fancy  :  and  he  found  that 
reason  itself  was  nothing,  or  nothing  to  be  depended  on,  longer 
than  it  acted  under  the  incumbent  energy  of  the  living  God. 
This  taught  him  the  precarious  nature  of  imagination  and 
fancy,  the  excellence  of  reason,  and  the  necessity  of  a  con- 
tinual indwelling  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  But,  as  many 
of  the  states  through  which  he  passed  were,  in  the  order  of 
the  all-wise  providence  of  God,  in  reference  to  his  ministerial 
character;  so  was  this.  He  has  often  said,  "I  believe  there 
is  not  a  state,  or  stage  of  feeling  or  trial  that  any  person  can 
be  in,  that  God  has  not  either  led  me  through,  or  permitted 
me  to  be  dragged  through ;  insomuch,  that  in  all  my  minis- 
terial life,  and  the  vast  multitude  of  cases  of  conscience  which 
came  before  me,  I  never  met  with  one  that  I  did  not  under- 
stand ;  so  that  I  can  say  with  the  apostle,  Blessed  be  God,  the 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Father  of  mercies,  and 
the  God  of  all  comfort ;  who  comforteth  us  in  all  our  tribula- 
tion, that  we  may  be  able  to  comfort  them  which  are  in  any 
trouble,  by  the  comfort  wherewith  we  ourselves  are  comforted 
of  God.    2  Cor.  i.  3,  4." 

But  the  Reader  is  no  doubt  anxious  to  know  how  this  charm 
was  dissolved  ;  and  how  the  soul  of  this  distressed  young  man 
was  delivered ?  It  was  simply  as  follows: — It  has  already 
been  seen  that  he  was  both  harassed  in  his  mind,  and  per- 
plexed and  injured  in  his  memory  :  he  needed  a  twofold  help, 
and,  when  they  became  indispensably  necessary,  God  sent 
them.  While  in  this  distracted  state,  he  went  one  evening 
to  the  prayer-meeting  ;  for  he  was  most  punctual  and  consci- 
entious in  all  the  means  of  grace.  One  of  those  who  engaged 
11 


122 


RLCOVEKV  OF  MEMORY. 


in  prayer,  who  knew  nothing  of  his  state,  was  led  to  pray 
thus : — "  Lord,  if  there  be  any  here,  against  whom  the  ac- 
cuser of  the  brethren  hath  stood  up,  succour  that  soul,  and 
cast  the  accuser  down."  Immediately  he  thought,  "  I  am  the 
person:  the  accuser  of  the  brethren  hath  stood  up,  and  is 
standing  up  against  me  :  Lord,  cast  him  down,  and  deliver 
me  !"  It  was  immediately  done  :  he  was  enabled  to  penetrate 
the  wiles  of  the  seducer ;  and  the  divine  light  and  consolation 
instantly  returned. 

How  he  was  succoured  in  the  ravages  made  on  his  memory 
will  next  appear.  One  day  Mr.  Bennet  having  desired  him 
to  do  something,  which  he  had  done,  but  had  forgotten  ;  and, 
being  questioned  on  it,  answered  in  his  usual  way  of  doubt- 
fulness, but  rather  from  a  conviction  that  it  was  undone  ;  Mr. 
B.,  knowing  that  it  was  done,  said  to  him  in  a  solemn  man- 
ner, "  Adam,  you  have  totally  lost  your  memory  : — you  are  in 
a  very  deplorable  state, — you  have  not  a  particle  of  memory 
remaining."  With  these  words  Adam  seemed  to  awaken  as 
from  a  deep  trance.  He  turned  his  eye  inwardly,  saw  his  mind 
in  total  confusion  :  nothing  had  rule  :  confusion  seemed  con- 
founded by  confusion — every  where  appeared  the 

"  Noil  bene  jundarum  discordia  semina  renm." 

He  flew  to  prayer,  which  was  ever  his  strong  hold :  God  shone 
upon  his  mind  and  gave  him  a  renewed  consciousness  of  his 
favour.  He  thought  he  would  try  and  see  whether  his  me- 
mory were  impaired:  he  took  up  Mr.  Blair 's  Poem  on  the 
Grave,  and  attempted  to  commit  to  memory  the  first  para- 
graph :  with  great  labour  he  succeeded  :  but  found  it  very 
difficult  to  recollect  the  lines  consecutively.  When  he  could 
repeat  the  paragraph  off  book,  in  its  natural  order,  he  thought 
he  would  not  burden  his  mind  any  farther  for  the  present,  and 
laid  down  the  book  and  went  to  his  work.  After  a  short  time 
he  endeavoured  to  repeat  those  lines  ;  but  what  his  surprise  to 
find  them  entirely  fled  ! 

Speaking  on  the  subject,  he  said,  "I  do  not  recollect  that  I 
remained  master  of  a  single  line  !  It  seemed  that  either  every 
thing  was  effaced  from  my  memory,  or  that  memory  itself  was 
extinct.  I  took  up  the  book  again,  and,  after  a  few  efforts, 
recovered  the  paragraph,  with  the  addition  of  a  few  more 
lines.  Went  again  to  work,  and  after  some  time,  tried  my 
memory  again,  and  found  all  gone  but  two  or  three  of  the 
first  lives!  I  took  up  the  book  again,  recovered  what  I  had 
learnt,  and,  as  before,  added  a  few  more  ;  and  was  satisfied 
that  I  could  say  the  whole  consecutively  without  missing  a 
line,  or  indeed  a  word.  Went  to  my  work  ;  after  some  hours 
tried  my  memory  again,  and  found  all  gone  but  about  double 
the  quantity  of  the  beginning  to  what  I  had  left  of  the  last 
recollection.    Thus  I  continued  for  some  time,  getting  and 


RECOVERY  OF  MEMORY. 


123 


losing,  but  recollecting  additionally  more  of  the  commence- 
ment, till  at  last,  I  could  repeat  in  all  circumstances,  and  after 
any  pause,  about  two  hundred  lines.  I  then  gave  it  up,  and 
by  various  exertions,  left  my  memory  to  acquire  its  wonted 
tone  and  energy  by  degrees  :  but  this  it  never  did  completely. 

"From  that  day  to  this,  my  memory  has  been  comparatively 
imperfect — much  inferior  to  what  it  was  before  It  could 
readily  take  in  great  things;  not  so  readily  small:  it  could 
perfectly  recollect  ideas,  and  general  description,  but  not  the 
particular  words:  could  give  the  substance  of  a  conversation 
at  any  time,  and  almost  at  any  distance  of  time,  but  not  the 
particular  terms  used  in  that  conversation : — and  so  of  read- 
ing. To  bring  it  to  what  it  is,  required  strong  and  frequent 
exercise :  but  there  is  a  certain  point  beyond  which  it  has 
refused  to  go,  or  I  have  not  had  skill  or  patience  enough  to 
carry  it.  But  this  imperfection  in  relation  to  verbal  minutice. 
I  consider  a  wise  dispensation  of  a  kind  Providence.  Had 
my  memory  been  as  circumstantially  perfect,  as  it  once 
was,  I  should  no  doubt  have  depended  much  on  it,  less  on 
God,  and  perhaps  neglected  the  cultivation  of  my  understand- 
ing and  judgment.  In  a  word,  I  should  have  done  probably 
what  many  eminent  memorists  have  done,  especially  some 
preachers, 1  meanly  stole  the  words  from  my  neighbours  ;'  being 
able  to  repeat  verbatim,  the  sermon  I  had  read,  or  that  which 
I  had  heard  ;  and  delivered  it  in  the  pulpit  as  if  it  were  my 
own ;  and  this  might  have  at  least  led  me  to 

'  Deal  in  the  wretched  traffic  of  a  truth  unfelt.' 

I  have  been  therefore  obliged  to  depend  much  on  the  continual 
assistance  of  God  in  my  ministerial  labours,  and  cultivate  my 
judgment  and  understanding  to  the  uttermost  of  my  power :  for 
I  never  dared  to  expect  the  divine  assistance  and  unction  so 
essentially  necessary  to  me,  unless  I  had  previously  exercised 
my  judgment  and  understanding  as  far  as  possible.  Now, 
strange  as  it  may  appear,  from  this  very  circumstance — the 
verbal  imperfection  of  my  memory — I  have  preached  perhaps 
5000  sermons,  on  all  kinds  of  subjects,  and  on  a  great  variety 
of  occasions,  and  did  not  know  beforehand,  one  single  sen- 
tence that  I  should  utter.  And  were  I  to  preach  before  the 
king,  or  the  two  universities,  I  must  preach  in  this  way  or  not 
at  all. 

"  But  let  no  man  misunderstand  me :  I  did  not  enter  the 
pulpit,  or  take  my  text  till  I  was  satisfied  I  understood  the 
subject,  and  could  properly  explain  and  reason  upon  it.  Ac- 
cording to  the  fable  in  my  favourite  ^Esop,  I  whipped  the 
horses,  and  set  my  shoulders  to  the  wheel,  and  then  called 
upon  Hercules,  and  was  sure  to  obtain  his  help." 

This  is  Dr.  Clarke's  own  account  of  this  solemn  business; 


126 


HE  PREACHES  HIS  FIRST  SERMON. 


thirty  miles,  which  he  must  walk,  for  there  were  no  public 
conveyances  of  any  kind  in  those  parts.  Just  before  he  set 
out,  early  on  the  Monday  morning,  he  took  up  his  Bible  and 
said,  Lord,  direct  me  to  some  portion  of  thy  Word,  that  may 
be  a  subject  to  me  of  useful  meditation  on  the  way  !  He 
then  opened  the  book,  and  the  first  words  that  met  his  eyes 
were  these,  "  Ye  have  not  chosen  me,  but  I  have  chosen  you, 
and  ordained  you,  that  ye  should  go  and  bring  forth  fruit, 
and  that  your  fruit  should  remain  :  that  whatsoever  you  shall 
ask  of  the  Father,  in  my  name,  he  may  give  it  you." — John 
xv.  16. 

This  word  gave  him  great  encouragement,  and  he  went  on 
his  way  rejoicing.  When  he  came  to  the  city,  Mr.  Bredin 
desired  him  to  go  the  next  night,  and  supply  his  place,  at  a 
village  called  New  Buildings,  about  five  miles  beyond  Derry  : 
— to  this  he  agreed.  "  But,"  says  Mr.  B.,  "  you  must  preach 
to  the  people."  "  I  will  do  the  best  I  can,"  says  Adam,  "with 
God's  help."  "  But,"  said  Mr.  B.,  "  you  must  take  a  text, 
and  preach  from  it."  "  That  I  cannot  undertake,"  said  Adam. 
"  You  must  and  shall,"  said  Mr.  B.  "  I  will  exhort  as  usual, 
but  I  cannot  venture  to  take  a  text."  "  Well,  a  text  you  must 
take,  for  the  people  will  not  be  satisfied  without  it :  a  good 
exhortation  is  a  Sermon,  and  you  may  as  well  have  a  text  as 
not."  To  this  authority  he  was  obliged  for  the  present  to 
bow : — he  went  with  rather  a  perplexed  than  a  heavy  heart ; 
but  he  was  relieved  by  meeting  in  the  course  of  his  reading 
with  the  following  words :  "  We  know  that  we  are  of  God, 
and  the  whole  world  lieth  in  wickedness."    1  John  v.  19. 

This  text  he  thought  he  well  understood,  went  to  the  place, 
June  19th,  1782  ;  took  it,  and  after  an  introduction,  in  which 
he  gave  a  general  account  of  the  Apostle  John,  divided  it  in 
the  following  way : — 

1.  The  Apostle  states  that  the  whole  world  lieth  in  wick- 
edness :  this  1  shall  endeavour  to  prove  from  the  natural  and 
practical  state  of  man. 

2.  That  it  is  only  by  the  power  of  God  that  men  are  saved 
from  this  state  of  corruption  ;  those  who  are  converted  being 
influenced  and  employed  by  Him  : —  We  are  of  God. 

3.  Those  who  are  thus  converted,  know  it,  not  only  from  its 
outward  effects  in  their  lives  ;  but  from  the  change  made  in 
their  hearts : —  We  know  that  we  are  of  God. 

The  people  seemed  highly  gratified,  and  gathered  round 
him  when  he  had  finished,  and  entreated  him  to  preach  to 
them  at  a  place  a  mile  or  two  off,  at  five  the  next  morning, 
before  they  went  to  their  work :  he  consented,  and  many  were 
gathered  together  to  whom  he  explained  and  applied,  1  John 
iv.  19,  We  love  Him  because  He  first  loved  us. 

During  this  visit  at  Derry,  he  preached  five  times  at  New 
Buildings;  and  gave  several  exhortations  in  the  city.  After 


PREPARES  FOR  LEAVING  IRELAND. 


127 


about  a  fortnight's  stay  he  returned,  and  now  had  a  strong 
persuasion  in  his  own  mind,  that  God  had  called  him  to  preach 
His  Word ;  and  that  the  verse  to  which  he  was  directed,  when 
he  set  out  on  his  journey  to  Derry, —  Ye  have  not  chosen  me, 
but  I  have  chosen  you,  and  ordained  you,  that  ye  should  go 
and  bring  forth  fruit,  tyc*  was  the  evidence  of  the  call  which 
God  had  graciously  given  him.  He  felt  these  words,  as  no 
man  could  feel  them,  who  was  not  in  his  circumstances. 
That  he  was  not  mistaken,  the  issue  has  most  amply  proved. 
He  was  now  sent  by  God ;  human  authority  had  not  yet  in- 
terfered in  his  appointment.  It  is  the  prerogative  of  God  to 
call  and  ordain  his  own  ministers :  it  may  be  the  prerogative 
of  the  church  to  appoint  them  where  to  labour ;  though,  fre- 
quently, this  also  comes  by  an  especial  divine  appointment. 

As  there  was  some  prospect  that  he  might  soon  go  to  Eng- 
land ;  previously  to  his  departure,  A.  C.  thought  it  his  duty  to 
wait  on  the  Rev.  Mr.  Smith,  the  Rector  of  the  parish,  to  in- 
form him  of  his  design  to  visit  England,  and  request  a  certi- 
ficate. He  did  so  ;  and  was  as  usual  received  with  great  kind- 
ness. On  his  requesting  a  certificate,  Mr.  S.  said,  "  Write  any 
thing  you  please,  Adam,  and  I  will  sign  it."  This  he  de- 
clined, and  said,  "  Any  thing  from  you,  Sir,  will  be  suffi- 
cient:" on  which  Mr.  S.  sat  down  and  wrote  the  following 
lines,  which  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hezlet,  Rector  of  a  neighbouring 
parish,  seeing,  subscribed. 

Millburn,  July  29,  1782. 
"  The  Bearer's  father,  John  Clarke,  M.  A.,  has  for  several 
years  kept  school  in  the  parish  of  Agherton,  of  which  I  am 
Rector ;  and  during  that  time,  both  he  and  the  Bearer,  Adam 
Clarke,  have  maintained  a  fair  and  exceeding  good  character : 
and  I  do  believe  the  Bearer  worthy  of  the  confidence  of  any 
person  who  has  occasion  to  employ,  or  have  any  intercourse  or 
connection  with  him. 

Wm.  Smith,  Minister  of  Agherton. 
Robt.  Hezlet,  Rector  of  Killowen." 

He  had  not  been  long  returned  from  Derry,  before  a  letter 
came  from  Mr.  Wesley  to  Mr.  Bredin,  appointing  him  for  Eng- 
land, and  desiring  him  to  bring  A.  Clarke  with  him,  that  he 
might  be  sent  direct  to  Kingswood  school.  This  brought  mat- 
ters to  a  crisis  with  his  family : — they  were  all  highly  dis- 
pleased. His  father  would  neither  see  nor  speak  to  him  ;  his 
mother  threatened  him  with  God's  displeasure,  and  said  as  be- 
fore, "  We  have  brought  you  up  with  much  care  and  trouble  ; 
your  brother  is  gone,  your  father  cannot  last  always,  you  should 
stay  with  the  family,  and  labour  for  the  support  of  those  who 
have  so  long  supported  you,  and  not  go  to  be  a  fugitive  and 
vagabond  over  the  face  of  the  earth.    I  believe  you  to  be  up- 


128 


MIS  PARENTS  RECONCILED 


right,  I  know  you  to  be  godly  ;  but  remember,  God  has  said, 
Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother  ;  that  thy  days  may  be  long 
in  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee.  This  is  the 
first  commandment  with  promise :  and  remember  what  the 
Apostle  hath  said  ;  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and 
yet  offend  in  one  point,  is  guilty  bf  all.  Now  I  allow  that 
you  are  unblameable  in  your  life,  but  you  are  now  going  to 
break  that  solemn  law,  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother  ; 
and  if  you  do,  what  will  avail  all  your  other  righteousness?" 
It  would  not  do  to  reply  to  an  aggrieved  parent.  All  he  could 
say  was,  /  wish  to  do  nothing  contrary  to  the  will  of  God  : 
and  in  this  respect  I  labour  to  keep  a  conscience  void  of  offence 
before  God  and  man.  His  poor  mother  was  so  far  transported 
and  oft  her  guard,  that  she  said,  "  If  you  go,  you  shall  have  a 
parent's  curse  and  not  her  blessing." 

He  was  thus  brought  into  a  dilemma,  and  had  no  choice 
but  of  difficulties. — He  had  advanced  too  far,  to  retreat  safely ; 
and  to  turn  back  he  could  not  with  a  clear  conscience.  He 
had  the  most  decided  disapprobation  of  his  parents,  and  with 
such,  expressed  as  mentioned  above,  he  could  not  think  of 
leaving  home.  Prayer  was  his  strong  hold,  and  to  this  he 
had  recourse  on  the  present  occasion.  God  knew  the  way 
that  he  took,  and  appeared  for  him.  Having  gone  into  Cole- 
raine  a  few  days  on  some  business,  he  was  greatly  surprised 
on  his  return  to  find  his  mother's  sentiments  entirely  changed. 
She  had  got  the  persuasion  that  God  had  required  her  to  give 
up  her  son  to  his  work:  she  instantly  submitted,  and  had  be- 
gun to  use  all  her  influence  with  his  father,  to  bring  him  to  the 
same  mind  ;  nor  had  she  exerted  herself  in  vain.  Both  his 
parents  received  him  on  his  return,  with  a  pleasing  counte- 
nance:  and  though  neither  said  go:  yet  both  said,  we  submit. 
In  a  few  days  he  set  off  to  the  city  of  Londonderry,  whence 
he  was  shortly  to  embark  for  Liverpool,  London,  or  Bristol. 
On  his  departure,  he  was  recommended  by  the  pious  society 
of  Coleraine,  to  God.  He  had  little  money,  and  but  a  scanty 
wardrobe  ;  but  he  was  carried  far  above  the  fear  of  want ;  he 
would  not  ask  his  parents  for  any  help  ;  nor  would  he  intimate 
to  them  that  he  needed  any.  A  few  of  his  own  select  friends 
put  some  money  in  his  purse,  and  having  taken  a  dutiful  and 
affectionate  leave  of  his  parents  and  friends,  he  walked  to 
Derry,  a  journey  of  upwards  of  30  miles,  in  a  part  of  a  day, 
found  Mr.  Bred  in  waiting,  who  had  agreed  for  their  passage 
in  a  Liverpool  trader,  which  was  expected  to  sail  the  first  fair 
wind. 

As  he  was  young  and  inexperienced,  for  he  had  not  seen 
the  world,  Adam  was  glad  that  he  was  likely  to  have  the  com- 
pany and  advice  of  his  friend  Mr.  Bredin  ;  but  in  this  he  was 
disappointed :  just  as  they  were  about  to  sail,  a  letter  came 
from  Mr.  Weslev,   remanding  Mr.  Bredin's  appointment. 


TO  HIS   LEAVING  IRELAND. 


129 


There  was  no  time  to  deliberate ;  the  wind  was  fair,  the  ves- 
sel cleared  out,  and  about  to  fall  down  the  Lough ;  Adam  got  a 
loaf  of  bread  and  about  a  pound  of  cheese,  went  instantly 
aboard  quite  alone,  and  the  vessel  set  sail,  Saturday,  August 
17,  1782.  By  this  solemn  step  he  had  now  separated  himself 
from  all  earthly  connections  and  prospects  in  his  own  country  ; 
and  went  on  the  authority  of  what  he  believed  to  be  a  divine 
command,  not  knowing  whither  he  was  going,  nor  what  God 
intended  for  him. 

They  got  safely  down  Lough  Foyle  into  the  Deucaledonian 
Sea,  having  run  aground  through  the  carelessness  of  the  pilot, 
but  got  off  in  about  an  hour,  without  sustaining  any  damage. 
They  passed  between  the  Skerries,  Raghery,  and  the  main 
land  ;  doubled  Fair  Head,  and  the  next  morning  were  off  the 
Midi  of  Galloway.  The  tide  being  against  them,  and  the  wind 
falling,  they  were  obliged  to  work  into  Ramsey  Bay,  in  the 
Isle  of  Man,  where  they  staid  about  six  hours.  When  the  tide 
made,  they  weighed  anchor,  and  the  next  afternoon  got  safely 
into  Liverpool,  August  19,  1782.  On  this  passage,  and  some 
circumstances  connected  with  it,  it  may  be  necessary  to  make 
a  few  remarks. 

The  captain  of  the  sloop  was  named  Cunningham,  a  Scotch- 
man ;  decent,  orderly,  and  respectable  in  his  life.  With  him 
young  Clarke  had  frequent  and  serious  conversation  on  the 
passage;  with  which  Capt.  C.  seemed  not  a  little  pleased.  The 
18th  was  Sunday,  during  the  whole  of  which  they  were  at  sea, 
but  Adam  was  sick,  and  was  obliged  to  keep  to  his  bed.  The 
captain  had  got  FlaveVs  works,  and  spent  all  his  spare 
time  on  the  Lord's  day  in  reading  them. — The  sailors  were,  on 
the  whole,  orderly  ;  and  though  he  had  reproved  them  for 
swearing,  they  did  not  take  it  ill,  and  refrained  from  the  prac- 
tice during  the  passage:  and  as  they  saw  that  the  captain 
treated  his  young  passenger  with  respect,  they  also  treated 
him  with  the  same.  When  they  took  their  pilot  on  board,  off 
Hoylake,  they  were  informed  that  there  was  a  hot  press  in  the 
river.  There  were  two  young  men,  one  a  sailor,  the  other  a 
hatter,  steerage  passengers,  who  began  to  fear  for  their  per- 
sonal safety.  The  sloop  entered  the  river,  and  the  first  object 
that  engaged  their  attention  was  a  tender,  which  fired  a  couple 
of  guns  to  make  the  captain  bring  to.  The  sails  were  hauled 
down  in  a  moment,  and  the  tender  lowered  her  boat  over  her 
side;  an  officer  and  six  men  entered  it,  andhegan  to  make  for 
the  sloop.  The  transaction  now  about  to  be  recorded  Dr.  C. 
has  often  related.    His  own  account  is  the  following : — 

"  As  soon  as  Captain  Cunningham  perceived  the  tender,  and 
was  obliged  to  bring  to,  on  her  fire :  he  addressed  himself  to 
the  passengers,  and  said,  '  You  had  better  go  and  hide  your- 
selves in  the  most  secret  parts  of  the  vessel,  or  wherever  you 
can ;  we  shall  have  a  press-gang  immediately  on  board  ;  and 


lag 


IN  DANGER  OF  BEING  PRESSED. 


I  cannot  protect  you.'  The  two  young  men  already  mention- 
ed, hid  themselves  accordingly :  I  said  to  myself,  Shall  such 
a  man  as  I  flee?  I  will  not.  1  am  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord  ; 
if  He  permit  me  to  be  sent  on  board  a  man-of-war.  doubtless 
He  has  something  for  me  to  do  there.'  I  therefore  quietly  sat 
down  on  a  locker  in  the  cabin;  but  my  heart  prayed  to  the 
God  of  heaven.  By  and  bye  the  noise  on  deck,  told  me  that 
the  gang  were  come  on  board.  Immediately  I  heard  a  hoarse 
voice  of  unholy  authority,  calling  out, — -All  you  who  are  be- 
low, come  up  on  deck !'  I  immediately  walked  up  the  hatch- 
way, stepped  across  the  quarter-deck,  and  leaned  myself 
against  the  gunwale.  The  officer  went  down  himself  and 
searched,  and  found  the  hatter ;  but  did  not  find  the  sailor. 
While  this  officer  and  the  captain  were  in  conversation  about 
the  hatter,  who  maintained  that  he  was  apprentice  to  Mr. 

 ,  of  Liverpool,  one  of  the  gang  came  up  to  me,  and  said 

to  one  of  our  sailors,  'Who  have  you  got  here?   O,  he's  a 

 priest,  I'll  warrant,'  said  the  fellow  ;  adding,  '  we  pressed 

a  priest  yesterday,  but  I  think  we'll  not  take  this  one.'  By  this 
time  the  lieutenant,  having  ordered  the  poor  hatter  aboard  of 
the  tender's  boat,  came  up  to  me,  stood  for  some  seconds  eye- 
ing me  from  head  to  foot;  he  then  stepped  forward,  took  me 
by  the  right  hand,  fingered  and  thumbed  it  to  find  whether  I 
had  been  brought  up  to  the  sea  or  hard  labour,  then,  with  au- 
thoritative insolence,  shook  it  from  him  with  a  muffled  exe- 
cration, 'D  you,  you'll  not  do.'   They  then  returned  to 

their  boat  and  went  off  with  the  poor  hatter. 

"  What  Briton's  bosom  does  not  burn  against  this  infringe- 
ment of  British  liberty  ?  This  unconstitutional  attack  on  the 
liberty  of  a  free-born  subject  of  the  Sovereign  of  the  British 
Isles?  While  the  impress  service  is  tolerated,  in  vain  do  we 
boast  of  our  Constitution.  It  is  an  attack  upon  its  vitality,  ten 
thousand  times  worse  than  any  suspension  of  the  Habeas  Cor- 
pus act.  Let  Britons  know  that  it  is  neither  any  part  of  our 
Constitution,  nor  any  law  of  the  land,  whatever  some  venal 
lawyers  have  said,  in  order  to  make  it  constructively  such. 
Nothing  can  be  a  reason  for  it,  but  that  which  justifies  a  levee 
cn  masse  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  nation.  It  is  intolerable  to 
hear  those  plead  for  it,  who  are  not  exposed  to  so  great  a  ca- 
lamity." 

Having  now  escaped  and  got  safely  to  shore,  A.  C.  asked 
the  captain  if  he  could  direct  him  to  some  quiet  lodging,  where 
he  might  be  comfortable  for  the  night,  as  he  intended  to  set 
off  next  morning  for  Bristol.  The  captain  said,  "You  shall 
stay  at  my  house;  sometimes  my  wife  takes  in  respectable 
lodgers."  He  went  with  him,  and  was  presented  with  several 
encomiums  to  Mrs.  C,  who  received  him  affably  ;  she  was  a 
decent,  well-bred  woman.  In  the  afternoon,  the  captain  ask- 
ed him  to  take  a  walk,  and  see  the  docks  and  shipping.  He 


ARRIVES  AT  LIVERPOOL. 


■went,  but  having  lately  escaped  from  a  press-gang,  he  was 
afraid  of  getting  in  their  way  again;  and  to  tell  the  truth, 
imagined  that  every  ill-looking  fellow  he  met,  was  one  of  the 
party. 

On  his  return  to  Captain  Cunningham's,  he  was  introduced 
to  a  Scotch  lady  who  was  there,  a  private  boarder  ;  there  was 
also  a  naval  captain  present.  At  tea,  the  conversation  turned 
on  religion.  The  strange  captain  professed  to  be  a  papist ; 
the  Scotch  lady  took  some  part  in  the  conversation,  and  gene- 
rally pledged  her  conscience  to  the  truth  of  what  she  asserted. 
Adam  was  pained  at  this ;  for,  in  all  other  respects,  she  ap- 
peared to  be  a  well-bred  and  very  respectable  gentlewoman. 
He  watched  for  an  opportunity  after  tea,  when  he  saw  her 
alone,  said  very  humbly,  "  Madam,,  it  is  a  pity  that  so  decent 
and  respectable  a  lady  as  you  are,  should  ever  use  an  improper 
word."  "Pray,"  said  the  lady,  surprised,  "what,  what  do 
you  mean  1"  "  Why,  madam,  I  have  noticed  you  several 
times  in  conversation,  use  the  term  '  upon  my  conscience.'' 
Now,  madam,  to  you,  and  to  every  intelligent  serious  person, 
conscience  must  be  a  very  sacred  principle  ;  and  should  never 
be  treated  lightly  ;  and  certainly  should  never  be  used  in  the 
way  of  an  ordinary  oath."  "Why,  sir,"  said  she.  "I  cannot 
think  there  is  any  harm  in  it.  I  know  very  well-bred  reli- 
gious people  make  no  scruple  of  using  it  as  I  do;  and  I  am 
sure  I  cannot  be  persuaded  that  I  have  been  doing  any  thing 
wrong."  "  Well,  madam,  I  do  think  it  sinful ;  and  I  rather 
think  when  you  come  to  reflect  on  it,  you  will  think  so  too." 
Thus  ended  the  conversation.  At  supper  the  lady  said, 
"Mrs.  Cunningham,  this  young  man  has  been  reproving  me 
for  saying,  'upon  my  conscience.''  Now,  I  never  thought  that 
to  be  a  sin  :  and  sure  Mrs.  C.  you  know,  as  well  as  I,  many 
good  people  who  make  no  scruple  of  saying  it."  There  was 
some  silence,  and  then  A.  C.  gave  his  reasons  why  he  thought 
it,  and  all  such  words,  thus  used,  to  be  sinful.  Captain  C. 
and  Mrs.  C.  seemed  to  nod  consent.  The  strange  Captain 
said,  "  Sir,  as  I  am  a  Catholic,  I  believe  that  when  the  priest 
has  consecrated  the  bread  and  wine  in  the  Lord's  Supper, 
nothing  of  those  elements  remains,  they  are  totally  and  sub- 
stantially changed  into  the  bodv,  blood,  life,  and  divinity  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Have  you  any  thing  to  say  against  that  ?" 
"  O  yes,  sir,"  said  Adam,  "  I  have  much  to  say  against  it ;" 
and  then  began  and  argued  largely  to  shew  the  doctrine  un- 
scriptural,  and  to  prove  it  absurd.  The  captain  then  asked 
him  what  he  had  to  say  against  the  invocation  of  saints,  and 
the  worshipping  of  images?  He  gave  his  reasons  at  large 
against  these  also.  Purgatory,  was  next  produced ;  Auricular 
Confession  ;  and  the  priests'  power  to  forgive  sins.  All  these 
were  considered :  and,  if  one  might  dare  to  say  so,  of  so 
young  a  person,  they  were  all  confuted  from  Scripture  and 


132 


JOURNEY  TO  BIRMINGHAM. 


reason.  But  the  last  tenet  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  turn 
to  the  subject  generally,  to  speak  concerning  the  nature  of  sin, 
and  the  fallen  condemned  state  of  man ;  and  that,  since  no 
human  nor  angelic  being  could  forgive  offences  not  committed 
against  themselves,  but  against  another,  it  followed  that  He 
only  against  whom  they  were  committed  could  forgive  them  ; 
and,  as  all  had  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God,  il 
He  did  not  forgive  them,  doubtless  they  must  sink  those  who 
had  committed  them  into  the  gulf  of  endless  perdition.  He 
shewed  also,  that  reconciliation  with  God  was  impossible  from 
any  thing  that  the  sinner  could  either  do  or  suffer  ;  and  that 
there  was  no  hope  of  salvation  to  any  man,  but  through  the 
great  sacrificial  offering  made  by  Christ  Jesus.  "  But  this," 
said  he,  "becomes  effectual  to  no  man  who  is  not  a  true  and 
deep  penitent,  and  does  not  implicitly  believe  in  that  Atoning 
Sacrifice,  as  offered  to  Divine  Justice  for  him,  as  a  sufficient 
sacrifice,  offering,  atonement,  and  satisfaction  for  his  trans- 
gressions." While  discoursing  on  these  subjects,  God  gave 
him  uncommon  power  and  freedom  of  speech  :  his  little  audi- 
ence had  their  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  him  ;  tears  began  to 
drop  on  their  cheeks,  and  the  half-smothered  sob,  gave  strong 
indications  of  the  state  of  their  minds :  perceiving  this,  he 
said,  let  us  pray  !  and,  suddenly  dropping  on  his  knees,  in 
which  he  was  immediately  followed  by  all  present,  he  prayed 
with  such  fervour  and  energy  that  all  were  in  tears ;  and  God 
seemed  to  work  mightily  in  every  mind.  What  were  the 
effects  of  this  night's  conversation  and  prayer,  will  be  found 
perhaps  only  in  the  great  day. 

The  next  morning  he  called  on  a  Mr.  Ray,  of  Cleaveland 
square,  to  whom  he  was  introduced  by  a  person  from  London- 
derry, whom  he  had  accidentally  met  in  the  street.  Mr.  Ray 
invited  him  to  stay  to  breakfast,  and  dissuaded  him  from  what 
he  had  fully  intended  to  do — viz.  to  go  on  foot  from  Liverpool 
to  Bristol,  a  journey  of  nearly  200  miles.  Mr.  Ray  sent  his 
young  man  with  him  to  the  coach-office,  where  he  took  an  out- 
side place  to  Birmingham,  in  what  was  then  called  the  Fly, 
one  of  the  first  of  the  stage  coaches,  carried  six  wsides,  as  many 
outsides  as  they  could  stick  on  ;  and  these,  together  with  enor- 
mous boot  and  basket,  filled  with  luggage,  made  it  little  infe- 
rior to  a  wagon  in  size,  and  not  a  great  deal  superior  to  one  in 
speed.  It  might  safely  be  ranked  among  the  tarda  volrentia 
plaustra;  for,  though  they  left.  Liverpool  at  seven  p.  m.  (Aug. 
21,)  they  did  not  arrive  in  Birmingham  before  the  following 
evening. 

Before  he  left  Captain  Cunningham's  he  inquired  forhis  bill ; 
and  was  answered  by  Mrs.  C,  "  No,  sir,  you  owe  nothing  here  ; 
Capt.  C,  myself,  and  all  the  family,  are  deeply  in  your  debt. — 
You  have  been  a  blessing  to  our  house ;  and,  were  you  to  stay 
longer,  you  would  have  no  charges.    We  shall  be  concerned  to 


JOURNEY  TO  BIRMINGHAM. 


133 


hear  how  you  get  to  the  end  of  your  journey ;  therefore,  pray 
write  to  us  when  you  get  to  Kingswood." 

This  free  lodging,  though  it  suited  his  pocket,  did  not.  suit 
his  disposition :  for  all  through  life  he  admired  and  enforced 
those  words  of  our  Lord,  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  re- 
ceive. He  departed,  earnestly  praying  that  God  would  re- 
member that  family  for  good,  for  the  kindness  they  had  shewn 
to  a  poor  stranger  in  a  strange  land. 

His  company  on  this  day's  journey  was  various,  particularly 
on  the  outside,  for  they  were  frequently  changed ;  most  of  them 
going  only  a  short  distance.  Those  within  were  of  another 
description,  and  A.  C.  became  acquainted  with  them  in  the 
following  manner : — a  young  gentleman  belonging  to  the  party, 
chose  to  take  a  stage  on  the  outside,  in  order  to  see  the  country. 
He  was  gay  and  giddy  and  soon  proved  that  he  feared  not  an 
oath.  A.  C.  asked  him  if  he  did  not  think  it  very  improper  to 
make  use  of  such  words  ?  "  What,"  said  he,  "  are  you  a 
Presbyterian  1" — "  No.  sir,"  said  Adam,  "  I  am  a  Methodist." 
This  provoked  his  risibility  in  an  uncommon  degree ;  and  he 
made  it  the  foundation  of  a  great  deal  of  harmless,  but  rather 
foolish  wit.  When  he  went  inside,  he  told  his  tale  in  his  own 
way,  and  this  excited  the  curiosity  of  his  companions  to  see  this 
strange  creature.  A  well-behaved  gentleman  put  his  head  out 
of  the  coach  window,  and  said,  "  Pray  tell  the  young  lad  in  the 
blue  coat,  to  come  into  the  inside  for  a  stage,  one  of  us  will 
change  places  with  him."  Adam  replied,  "  I  thank  you,  sir, 
I  prefer  the  seat  where  I  now  am."  He  repeated  his  request, 
and  had  the  same  answer.  When  the  coach  stopped,  a  lady 
urged  him  to  comply  ;  but  the  risibility  of  the  young  gentleman 
not  having  as  yet  received  its  sedative,  A.  C.  still  refused. — 
The  lady  pressed  him,  and  said,  "  Why,  sir,  should  you  refuse 
our  company?" — "Why,  madam,"  said  he,  "I  think  mine 
cannot  be  very  agreeable  to  you."  She  answered,  "  Sir,  you 
must  come  in  ;  this  young  gentleman  ii  ill  take  your  place,  and 
you  will  do  us  good."  He  at  last  consented.  They  questioned 
him  about  his  religion  ;  where  he  was  going,  &c.  &c,  and  they 
were  so  well  pleased,  that  they  requested  him  to  go  with  them 
round  by  London,  and  they  would  cheerfully  pay  his  fare,  and 
maintain  him  on  his  way.  This  did  not  seem  to  him  to  lie  in 
the  line  of  Providence,  and  therefore,  with  due  expressions  of 
obligation,  he  refused  the  proffered  kindness.  The  coach 
stopped  for  dinner  at  Litchfield,  and  they  obliged  him  to  sit  at 
table  with  them,  and  would  not  permit  him  to  be  at  any  expense. 
The  gentleman  was  learned  ;  and  was  pleased  to  find  that 
his  young  acquaintance  could  converse  with  him  out  of  Virgil 
and  Horace,  and  was  also  well  acquainted  with  all  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  In  discoursing  on  that  confi- 
dence which  every  true  follower  of  God  has  in  the  Divine 
favour  and  protection.  A.  C.  alleged  that  the  principle  was 


134 


JOURNEY  TO  BIRMINGHAM. 


not  unknown  among  even  the  heathens;  though  many  called 
Christians  deny  that  we  can  have  any  direct  evidence  of  God's 
love  to  our  minds ;  and  he  quoted  the  following  verse  from 
Horace : — 

Integer  vita  scelerisque  purus, 

Non  egci  Mauris  jaculis.  ncque  arm, 

Nec  vencnatis  gravida  sagittis. 

Fusee,  p/iaretra." 

Odar.  lib.  i.  od.  22. 
"  The  man  that  knows  not  guilty  fear, 
Nor  wants  the  bow,  nor  pointed  spear; 
Nor  needs,  while  innocent  of  heart, 
The  quiver  teeming  with  the  poisoned  dart." 

Francis. 

"  True,"  said  the  gentleman,  "but  if  we  take  Horace  as  au- 
thority for  one  point,  we  may  as  well  do  it  in  another,  and  in 
some  of  your  received  principles,  you  will  find  him  against 
you  ;  witness  another  Ode," — 

"  Nunc  est  bibendum,  nunc  pede  libero 
Pulsanda  tellus." 

Odar.  lib.  i.  od.  37. 
"  Now  let  the  bowl  with  wine  be  crown'd  ; 
Now  lighter  dance  the  mazy  round." 

Francis. 

A.  C.  acknowledged  the  propriety  of  this  critique;  and  has 
heen  heard  to  say,  "  We  should  be  cautious  how  we  appeal  to 
heathens,  however  eminent,  in  behalf  of  morality;  because 
much  may  be  collected  from  them  on  the  other  side.  In  like 
manner,  we  should  take  heed  how  we  quote  the  Fathers  in 
proof  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel ;  because  he  who  knows 
them  best,  knows,  that  on  many  of  those  subjects,  they  blow 
hot  and  cold." 

He  parted  from  this  intelligent  company  at  Lichfield  :  to 
whom  he  had  a  very  favourable  opportunity  of  explaining 
some  of  the  chief  doctrines  of  the  Christian  system. — Every 
well  disposed  mind  has  something  to  do  for  God  or  man,  in 
every  place  and  circumstance  ;  and  he  who  is  watchful  and 
conscientious,  will  find  opportunities. 

He  reached  Birmingham  in  the  evening,  and  soon  found 
out  Mr.  Joseph  Brettell,  the  brother  of  John,  already  men- 
tioned, to  whom  he  had  a  letter  of  recommendation  from  Mr. 
Bay.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  B.  received  him  most  affectionately,  and 
offered  him  a  bed  at  their  house  till  he  could  take  his  depar- 
ture for  Bristol,  which  could  not  be  till  early  on  the  morning  of 
the  24th,  as  there  was  no  conveyance  before  that  time.  On  the 
evening  of  the  23d  Mr.  B.  took  him  with  him  to  a  public  prayer- 
meeting,  where  he  constrained  him  to  give  an  exhortation  ; 
which  the  piety  and  good  sense  of  the  people  to  whom  it  was 
given,  led  them  to  receive  kindly.    The  chapel  in  Cherry 


JOURNEY  TO  BRISTOL. 


135 


Street  was  then  nearly  finished,  and  that  night  before  the 
prayer-meeting,  he  heard  old  Parson  Greenwood  preach  in  it 
on  these  words,  "  I  am  in  a  strait  between  two."  On  which 
he  observed  that.  "  It  had  been  generally  the  case  in  all  ages, 
that  the  people  of  God  had  been  frequently  in  straits  and  diffi- 
culties; and  gave  several  instances,  as  Lot  in  Sodom  ;  Jacob 
in  the  house  of  Laban,  and  when  he  met  with  Esau  his  bro- 
ther; Moses  in  Egypt,"  &c.  &c.  and,  had  he  then  known  the 
circumstances  and  spirit  of  his  young  strange  hearer,  he  might 
have  safely  added  him  to  the  number. 

Before  he  left  Birmingham,  Mr.  Brettell  took  occasion  to 
ask  him,  "  What  he  proposed  by  going  to  Kingswood  school  V 
Adam,  who  had  been  led  to  consider  it  in  the  light  of  an  uni- 
versity, but  much  better  conducted,  immediately  answered, 
"  I  hope  to  get  in  it  an  increase  of  learning,  of  knowledge, 
and  of  piety."  Mr.  B.  said,  "  I  hope  you  may  not  be  disap- 
pointed :  I  question  whether  you  will  meet  there  with  any- 
thing you  expert."  At  this  Adam  was  surprised,  and  referred 
him  to  some  of  the  late  magazines,  where  such  an  account 
was  given  of  this  seminary,  as  quite  justified  all  his  expecta- 
tions. Mr.  B.  said,  u  I  only  wish  to  put  you  on  your  guard 
against  suffering  pain  and  discouragement,  should  you  be  dis- 
appointed. Some  of  us  know  the  place  well;  and' know  that 
you  will  not  meet  in  it  what  you  have  been  led  to  expect." 
This  seemed  strange  to  him,  and  he  pondered  all  these  say- 
ings in  his  heart.  This  kind  family  behaved  to  him  as  if  he 
had  been  their  own  child,  and  a  strict  friendship  was  estab- 
lished between  him  and  them  which  was  never  dissolved  ; 
and  Mr.  Brettell's  house  was  his  home  whenever  he  visited 
Birmingham,  till,  in  the  course  of  Divine  Providence,  he  left 
his  residence  and  manufactory  at  the  Moat,  and  became  man- 
ager of  a  public  charge  in  the  town. 

Of  this  kind  family  Dr.  C.  was  accustomed  to  say,  "Never 
were  those  words  of  our  Lord  more  literally  attended  to,  than 
in  the  case  of  this  family  in  reference  to  me  : — I  was  a  stran- 
ger and  ye  took  me  in.  Of  myself  or  family  they  had  never 
before  heard.  Of  me  they  could  hardly  expect  ever  to  hear 
again  ;  and  for  their  kindness  they  could  expect  no  reward  on 
this  side  the  resurrection  of  the  just ;  and  yet  they  behaved 
to  me,  as  did  the  family  of  the  Walkers,  into  which  Mr.  B. 
had  married,  as  if  they  had  been  under  the  highest  obligations 
to  me  and  mine.  May  God  remember  them  for  good :  and 
may  neither  their  children,  nor  children's  children,  ever  be 
strangers  in  a  strange  land,  without  meeting  with  such  friends 
as  they  have  been  to  me  !" 

As  the  coach  for  Bristol  was  to  go  off  at  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  it  was  thought  best  that  A.  C.  should  sleep  at 
the  inn.  When  he  had  paid  his  coach  outside  fare  to  Bristol, 
and  sixpence  for  his  bed,  he  found  he  had  remaining  one  shil- 


130 


ARRIVAL  AT  KINGSWOOD. 


ling  and  niuepence  only.  On  this  he  could  not  draw  exten- 
sively for  support  on  the  way  ;  nor  was  he  anxious,  as  he  was 
well  inured  to  sell-denial  and  fasting.  He  left  Birmingham 
at  three  o'clock,  a.  m.  Aug.  24,  and  reached  the  Lamb  Inn  in 
Broad  Mead,  Bristol,  at  eight  o'clock  that  night.  During  the 
whole  of  this  time,  his  entire  subsistence  had  been  a  penny 
loaf  and  a  halfpenny  worth  of  apples!  The  day  had  been 
stormy,  and  he  had  been  often  wet  to  the  skin:  and  not  being 
used  to  such  travelling,  he  was  sufficiently  fatigued  and  ex- 
hausted when  he  reached  Bristol.  He  was  shewn  to  the 
kitchen,  where  there  happening  to  be  a  good  fire,  he  got  him- 
self warmed :  and  he  asked  for  a  piece  of  bread  and  cheese, 
and  a  drink  of  water.  "Water,  water!"  said  one  of  the  ser- 
vants, "  had  you  not  better  have  a  pint  of  beer  ?" — "  No,  I  pre- 
fer a  drink  of  water,"  said  he :  it  was  brought,  and  for  this 
homely  supper  he  paid  sixpence,  and  sixpence  for  his  bed  be- 
fore he  lay  down;  he  had  now  sevenppnce  halfpenny  remain- 
ing, sixpence  of  which  the  chambermaid  charged  for  taking 
care  of  his  box :  he  had  three  halfpence  left,  his  whole  sub- 
stance, to  begin  the  world  at  Kingswood  !  The  next  morn- 
ing early,  Aug.  25th,  he  left  the  inn,  and  walked  to  Kings- 
wood,  and  got  thither  about  seven  o'clock,  when  the  preaching 
in  the  chapel  was  about  to  commence.  He  entered  with  the 
crowd,  and  heard  Mr.  Thomas  Payne  preach  on  "  Woman, 
why  weepest  thou?  Whom  seekest  thou?''''  This  text  was  a 
word  in  season  to  Adam,  who  began  now  to  be  very  heavy, 
and  considerably  tried  in  his  mind,  with  a  foreboding  of  some, 
approaching  distresses.  It  may  be  necessary  to  state  here, 
that  the  Thomas  Payne  mentioned  above,  was  not  the  famous 
revolutionist  and  Infidel,  so  well  known  since  over  Europe 
and  America;  but  a  zealous,  sensible  Methodist  preacher,  the 
reverse  of  the  other,  both  in  his  religious  and  political  creed. 
His  own  life,  written  by  himself,  may  be  found  in  the  Armi- 
nian  Magazine.  He  died  at  Brislington,  near  Bristol,  the  fol- 
lowing year. 

The  preaching  being  ended,  A.  C.  inquired  of  a  young  lad, 
whom  he  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  scholars,  if  Mr.  Simpson 
(the  head  Master)  was  at  home  ?  Being  informed  that  he 
was,  he  begged  leave  to  see  him  ; — he  was  introduced,  and  de- 
livered Mr.  Wesley's  letter.  Mr.  S.  appeared  surprised  :  said, 
"  He  had  heard  nothing  of  it,  and  that  they  had  no  room  in 
the  school  for  any  one ;  that  Mr.  Wesley  was  now  in  Corn- 
wall, but  was  expected  in  a  fortnight :"  and  added,  "  You  must 
go  back  to  Bristol,  and  lodge  there  till  he  comes."  These 
were  all  appalling  tidings  !  Adam  had  travelled  several  hun- 
dred miles  both  by  sea  and  land  in  quest  of  a  chimerical 
Utopia  and  Garden  of  Paradise,  and  now  all  his  hopes  were 
in  a  moment  crushed  to  death. 

With  a  heart  full  of  distress.  Adam  ventured  to  say,  "  Sir 


HIS  RECEPTION  AT  KINGSWOOD  SCHOOL.  137 

I  cannot  go  back  to  Bristol,  I  have  expended  all  my  money, 
and  have  nothing  to  subsist  on."  Mr.  S.  said,  "  Why  should 
you  come  to  Kingswood,  it  is  only  for  preachers'  children,  or 
for  such  preachers  as  cannot  read  their  Bible  ;  and  it  appears 
from  this  information,  that  you  have  already  been  at  a  clas- 
sical school,  and  that  you  have  read  both  Greek  and  Latin  au- 
thors." Adam  said,  "  I  am  come  to  improve  myself  in  vari- 
ous ways  by  the  advantages  which  I  understood  Kingswood 
could  afford. "  Mr.  S.  replied  that,  "It  was  not  necessary  ;  if 
you  are  already  a  preacher,  you  had  better  go  out  into  the  work 
at  large,  for  there  is  no  room  for  you  in  the  school,  and  not 
one  spare  bed  in  the  house."  It  was  now  with  his  poor  heart : — 
Hei  mihi!  quanta  de  spe  decidi! 

The  rest  I  shall  give  in  A.  C.'s  own  words. 

"  At  last  it  was  agreed,  that  there  was  a  spare  room  on  the 
end  of  the  chapel,  where  I  might  lodge  till  Mr.  Wesley  should 
come  from  Cornwall :  and  that  I  must  stay  in  that  room  and 
not  come  into  the  house.  I  was  accordingly  shewn  to  the 
place,  and  was  told,  one  of  the  maids  should  bring  me  my 
daily  food  at  the  due  times.  As  soon  as  I  was  left  alone,  I 
kneeled  down  and  poured  out  my  soul  to  God  with  strong  cry- 
ing and  tears.  I  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  and  alas ! 
among  strange  people:  utterly  friendless  and  pennyless.  I 
felt  also  that  I  was  not  at  liberty,  but  only  to  run  away: — this 
I  believe  would  have  been  grateful  to  the  unfeeling  people  into 
whose  hands  I  had  fallen.  But  I  soon  found  why  I  was  thus 
cooped  up  in  my  prison-house.  Mr.  S.  that  day  took  an  op- 
portunity to  tell  me  that  Mrs.  S.  suspected  that  I  might  have  the 
itch,  as  many  persons-coming  from  my  country  had  ;  [this 
was  excellent  from  Scotch  people,  for  such  they  both  were  ;] 
and  that  they  could  not  let  me  mingle  with  the  family.  I  im- 
mediately tore  open  my  waistcoat  and  shirt,  and  shewed  him 
a  skin  as  white  and  as  clean  as  ever  had  come  across  the 
Tweed  ;  but  all  to  no  purpose, — '  It  might  be  cleaving  some- 
where to  me,  and  they  could  not  be  satisfied  till  I  had  rubbed 
myself,  from  head  to  foot,  with  a  box  of  Jackson's  itch  oint- 
ment, which  should  be  procured  for  me  next  day!'' 

"It  was  only  my  strong  hold  of  God,  that  kept  me  from 
distraction.  But  to  whom  could  I  make  my  complaint  ? 
Earthly  refuge  I  had  none.  It  is  utterly  impossible  for  me  to 
describe  the  feelings,  I  may  justly  say  the  agony,  of  my  mind. 
I  sun-eyed  my  apartment ;  there  was  a  wretched  old  bureau 
wainscot  bedstead,  not  worth  ten  shillings,  and  a  flock  bed, 
and  suitable  bed-clothes,  worth  not  much  more :  but  the  worst 
was,  they  were  very  scanty,  and  the  weather  was  cold  and  wet. 
There  was  one  rush  bottomed  chair  in  the  place,  and  besides 
these,  neither  carpet  on  the  floor,  nor  at  the  bedside,  nor  any 
other  kind  of  furniture.  There  was  no  book,  not  even  a  Bible, 
12+ 


138 


TREATMENT  AT  KINGSWOOD  SCHOOL. 


in  the  place ;  and  my  own  box,  with  my  clothes  and  a  few 
books,  was  behind  at  the  Lamb  Inn,  in  Bristol ;  and  I  had  not 
even  a  change  of  linen.  Of  this  I  informed  them,  and  begged 
them  to  let  the  man,  (as  I  found  he  went  in  with  a  horse  and 
small  cart  three  times  a  week,)  bring  out  my  box  to  me.  To 
this  request,  often  and  earnestly  repeated,  I  got  no  definite  an- 
swer, but  no  box  was  brought. 

"Jackson's  Ointment  was  brought,  it  is  true  ;  and  with  this 
infernal  unguent,  I  was  obliged  to  anoint  myself  before  a  large 
fire,  (the  first  and  last  I  saw  while  I  remained  there,)  which 
they  had  ordered  to  be  lighted  for  the  purpose.  In  this  state, 
smelling  worse  than  a  polecat,  I  tumbled  with  a  heavy  heart 
and  streaming  eyes,  into  my  worthless  bed.  The  next  morn- 
ing the  sheets  had  taken  from  my  body,  as  far  as  they  came 
in  contact  with  it,  the  unabsorbed  parts  of  this  tartareous  com- 
pound :  and  the  smell  of  them  and  myself  was  almost  insup- 
portable. The  woman  that  brought  my  bread  and  milk  for 
breakfast — for  dinner — and  for  supper, — for  generally  I  had 
nothing  else,  and  not  enough  of  that, — I  begged  to  let  me 
have  a  pair  of  clean  sheets.  It  was  in  vain  :  no  clean  clothes 
of  any  kind  were  afforded  me ;  I  was  left  to  make  my  own 
bed,  sweep  my  own  room,  and  empty  my  own  basin,  &c.  &c. 
as  I  pleased !  For  more  than  three  Aveeks  no  soul  performed 
any  kind  act  for  me.  And  as  they  did  not  give  orders  to  the 
man  to  bring  out  my  box,  I  was  left  without  a  change  of  any 
kind,  till  the  Thursday  of  the  second  week;  when  I  asked 
permission  to  go  out  of  my  prison-house  to  Bristol  for  my  box ; 
which  being  granted,  I  walked  to  Bristol  and  carried  my  box 
on  my  head,  more  than  four  miles,  without  any  kind  of  assist- 
ance !  It  was  then  no  loss,  that  my  wardrobe  was  not  exten- 
sive. As  for  books,  I  brought  none  with  me  but  a  small  18rno. 
Bible,  a  12mo.  edition  of  Young's  Night  Thoughts,  Prideaux's 
Connected  History  of  the  Jews,  &c,  and  Buck's  8vo.  Greek 
Testament. 

"  As  both  the  days  and  nights  were  very  cold,  the  season 
then  being  unnaturally  so,  I  begged  to  have  a  little  fire.  This 
was  denied  me,  though  coals  were  raised  within  a  few  roods 
of  the  house,  and  were  very  cheap ;  and  had  it  been  otherwise, 
they  were  not  at  their  expense;  they  were  paid  for  out  of  the 
public  collections,  made  for  that  school ;  to  which  many  of 
my  friends  made  an  annual  liberal  offering. 

"One  day,  having  seen  Mr.  S.  walking  in  the  garden,  I 
went  to  him  and  told  him  I  was  starving  with  cold  ;  and 
shewed  him  my  fingers  then  bloodless  through  cold  !  He  took 
me  to  the  hall,  shewed  me  a  cord  which  hung  from  the  roof, 
to  the  end  of  which  was  affixed  a  cross  stick;  and  told  me  to 
jump  up  and  catch  a  hold  of  the  stick,  and  swing  by  my  hands, 
and  that  would  help  to  restore  the  circulation.  I  did  so:  and 
had  been  at  the  exercise  only  a  few  minutes,  when  Mrs.  S. 


TREATMENT  AT  KING*\VOOD  SCHOOL. 


139 


came  anil  drove  both  him  and  myself  away,  under  pretence 
that  we  should  dirty  the  floor !  From  this  woman  I  received 
no  kindness.  A  more  unfeeling  woman  I  had  never  met. 
She  was  probably  very  clever — all  stood  in  awe  of  her — for 
my  own  part,  I  feared  her  more  than  I  feared  Satan  himself. 
When  nearly  crippled  with  cold,  and  I  had  stolen  into  the 
kitchen  to  warm  myself  for  a  few  moments,  if  I  had  heard  her 
voice  in  the  hall,  I  have  run  as  a  man  would  who  is  pursued 
in  the  jungles  of  Bengal  by  a  royal  tiger. 

"  This  woman  was  equally  saving  of  the  candles,  as  of  the 
coals:  if. my  candle  were  not  extinguished  by  nine  o'clock, 
I  was  called  to  account  for  it.  My  bed  not  being  comfortable, 
I  did  not  like  to  lie  much  in  it ;  and  therefore  kept  out  of  it  as 
late,  and  rose  from  it  as  early  as  possible.  To  prevent  Mrs.  S. 
from  seeing  the  reflection  of  the  light  through  my  window,  (for 
my  prison-house  was  opposite  the  school,  over  the  way,)  I 
was  accustomed  to  set  my  candle  on  the  floor  behind  my 
bureau  bed,  take  off  my  coat  and  hang  it  on  my  chair's  back, 
bring  that  close  on  the  other  angle,  and  then  sit  down  squat 
on  the  floor  and  read  !  To  these  miserable  expedients  was  I 
driven  in  order  to  avoid  my  bed,  and  spend  my  time  in  the 
best  manner  I  could  for  the  cultivation  of  my  mind,  and  to 
escape  the  prying  eye  of  this  woman,  who  seemed  never  to 
be  in  her  element  but  when  she  was  driving  every  thing  be- 
fore her. 

"  I  asked  and  got  permission  to  work  in  the  garden.  There, 
fine  quickset  hedges  were  all  overgrown ;  these  I  reduced  to 
order  by  the  dubbing  shears :  and  I  had  done  this  so  well, 
that  my  taste  and  industry  were  both  applauded.  I  occasion- 
ally dug  and  dressed  plots  in  the  ground.  This  was  of  great 
service  to  me,  as  it  gave  me  a  sufficiency  of  exercise,  and  I 
had  on  the  whole  better  health ;  and  there  was  a  sort  of  pond 
of  rain  water  in  the  garden,  where  I  occasionally  bathed, 
scanty  indeed  of  water,  for  there  is  none  in  the  place  but 
what  falls  from  heaven ;  and  for  a  temporary  occupation  of 
their  premises,  I  was  obliged  to  contend  witli  frogs,  askes,  or 
evets,  and  vermin  of  different  kinds. 

"  The  preaching,  and  public  band-meeting  at  the  chapel, 
were  often  sources  of  spiritual  refreshment  to  me ;  and  gave 
me  songs  in  the  house  of  my  pilgrimage. 

"One  Thursday  evening,  when  Mr.  Thos.  Rankin,  who 
was  superintendent  (then  called  assistant)  of  the  circuit,  had 
preached,  the  bands  met:  and  as  I  made  it  a  point  never  to 
attend  band-meeting  or  love-feast,  without  delivering  my  tes- 
timony for  God,  I  spoke:  and  without  entering  into  trials, 
temptations,  or  difficulties  of  any  kind,  I  simply  stated  my 
confidence  in  God,  the  clear  sense  I  had  of  my  acceptance 
with  Him,  and  my  earnest  desire  for  complete  purity  of  heart. 
When  the  meeting  was  ended,  Mr.  R.  came  to  me,  and  asked 


140 


TREATMENT  AT  KINGSWOOD  SCHOOL. 


if  I  had  ever  led  a  class  ?  I  said,  I  had  often,  in  my  own 
country,  but  not  since  I  came  to  England.  '  Have  you  ever 
preached  V  I  answered,  I  had  often  exhorted  in  public,  but 
had  taken  a  text  only  a  few  times.  He  then  told  me  I  must 
go  and  meet  a  class  at  Mangotsfield,  the  next  day  ;  and  preach 
at  Downend  the  next  Wednesday.  I  met  the  class,  and 
preached  as  appointed,  and  had  great  favour  in  the  sight  of  the 
people. 

"  From  that  time  Mr.  Rankin  was  my  steady  friend.  I 
had  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  him  for  upwards  of  thirty 
years ;  and  we  never  had  the  slightest  misunderstanding.  He 
was  an  authoritative  man  ;  and  many  complained  of  him  on 
this  account ;  he  had  not  many  friends,  his  manner  being 
often  apparently  austere.  But  he  was  a  man  of  unblemished 
character,  truly  devoted  to  God,  and  zealous  in  his  work.  I 
attended  him  on  his  death-bed  in  London :  he  died  as  a  Chris- 
tian and  minister  of  Christ  should  die, — full  of  confidence  in 
God,  and  peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. 

"  The  last  time  I  saw  him  he  desired  his  step-daughter, 
Mrs.  Hovatt,  to  open  a  certain  drawer,  and  bring  to  him  a 
little  shagreen  box.  She  did  so — he  took  it,  and  said,  'My 
dear  brother  Clarke,  this  is  a  silver  medal  of  the  late  Rev. 
George  Whitfield :  Mr.  Wesley  gave  it  to  me,  and  in  my  will 
1  have  left  it  to  you:  but  I  now  choose  to  give  it  to  you  with 
my  own  hands ;  and  I  shall  use  the  same  words  in  giving  it 
which  Mr.  Wesley  used  when  he  gave  it  to  me : 

'  Thus  we  scatter  our  playthings :  and  soon  we'll  scatter  our  dust.' 

"  It  is  a  satisfaction  to  me  that,  having  been  superintendent 
of  the  London  circuit  three  years  before  he  died,  I  had  it  in  my 
power  to  make  his  latter  labours  comparatively  comfortable  and 
easy ;  by  appointing  him  to  places  to  which  he  had  little  fa- 
tigue in  going,  and  where  he  was  affectionately  entertained. — 
In  this  I  only  did  my  duty ;  but  he  received  it  as  a  very  high 
obligation.  Preachers  who  have  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of 
the  day,  should  be  favoured  in  their  latter  end,  when  their 
strength  and  spirits  fail. 

"Before  I  go  farther  in  this  relation,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
describe,  as  briefly  as  possible,  the  family  at  Kingswood. 

"  The  school  at  that  time  consisted  of  the  sons  of  itinerant 
preachers,  and  parlour  boarders.  The  latter  were  taken  in,  be- 
cause the  public  collections  were  not  sufficient  to  support  the 
institution. 

"  As  a  religious  seminary,  and  under  the  direction  of  one  of 
the  greatest  men  in  the  world,  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  (though  his  mul- 
titudinous avocations  prevented  him  from  paying  much  atten- 
tion to  it,)  the  school  had  a  great  character,  both  over  Europe 
and  America,  among  religious  people.  Independently  of  several 
young  gentlemen,  the  sons  of  opulent  Methodists,  there  were 


t 


TREATMENT  AT  KlNOStt  00D  SCHOOL. 


141 


at  that  time  in  it  several  from  the  West  Indies,  Norway,  Swe- 
den, and  Denmark. 

"  The  following  was  the  domestic  establishment: — 
"Mr.  Thomas  Simpson,  M.  A.  was  head  master.  Mrs. 
Simpson,  housekeeper.  Miss  Simpson,  assistant.  The  Rev. 
Cornelius  Bayley,  afterwards  Dr.  Bayley  of  Manchester,  was 
English  teacher  ;  who  had  I  believe  at  that  time,  only  12/.  per 
annum,  and  his  board,  &c.  for  his  labor ;  Mr.  Vincent  de 
Boudry  was  occasional  French  teacher ;  and  Mr.  C.  R.  Bond 
was  a  sort  of  half  boarder,  and  assistant  English  teacher. 

•'Mr.  S.  was  a  man  of  learning  and  piety  ;  much  of  a  gen- 
tleman, but  too  easy  for  his  situation.  Mr.  Bayley  was  a  man 
of  the  strictest  morals  and  exemplary  piety.  Mr.  De  Boudry 
was  a  man  of  plain  sense  and  true  godliness.  Mr.  Bond  was 
a  young  man  of  little  experience,  and  shallow  in  talents,  but 
affectionate :  whose  highest  ambition  seemed  to  be,  to  reach 
the  exalted  place  and  character  of  a  clergyman. 

"  Mr.  Simpson,  on  leaving  Kingswood,  which  he  did  the 
year  after  I  was  there,  set  up  a  classical  school  at  Keynsham  ; 
which  he  managed  for  many  years  with  considerable  credit ; 
and  died,  leaving  a  son  to  fill  his  place,  who  afterwards  became 
vicar  of  that  place. 

"Mr.  Cornelius  Bayley  published  a  very  good  Hebrew 
grammar  while  he  was  at  the  school.  He  afterwards  went  to 
Manchester,  where  a  church  was  built  for  him,  called  St. 
James'.  There  he  earnestly  laboured  and  did  much  good, 
though  he  knew  not  the  people  among  whom  he  received 
his  religion,  and  who  were  the  principal  instruments  in  build- 
ing his  church.  He  also  is  dead ;  highly  respected  for  his 
piety,  usefulness,  and  high  Church  principles. 

"  Mr.  De  Boudry  married  a  pious  sensible  woman  ;  and  set 
up  a  Boarding  School  on  Kingsdown,  Bristol.  He  is  dead; 
having  long  borne  the  character  of  a  nious,  steady,  honest  man. 

"  No  man  can  do  justice  to  the  lite  of  Mr.  Bond,  but  him- 
self. It  has  been  indeed  various  and  chccqucred :  he  is  pro- 
bably still  living;  but  I  know  not  what  is  become  of  him. 

"  The  scholars  were  none  of  them  remarkable  for  piety  or 
learning.  The  young  gentlemen  that  were  introduced  had 
spoiled  the  discipline  of  the  school;  very  few  of  its  Rules  and 
Regulations  were  observed ;  and  it  in  no  respect  answered  the 
end  of  its  institution.  This  is  evident  from  the  judgment 
passed  upon  it  in  the  following  year  by  Mr.  Wesley  and  the 
Bristol  Conference.    This  document  I  transcribe. 


'  Q.  15.  Can  any  improvement  be  made  in  the  manage- 


'  A.  My  design  in  building  the  house  at  Kingswood  was  to 
have  therein  a  Christian  family  ;  every  member  whereof, 


:  Bristol,  Aug.  1783. 


142 


TREATMENT  AT  KIN'GSWOOO  SCHOOL. 


(children  excepted,)  should  be  alive  to  God,  and  a  pattern  of 
all  holiness.  Here  it  was  that  I  proposed  to  educate  a  few 
children  according  to  the  accuracy  of  the  Christian  model. 
And  almost  as  soon  as  we  began,  C4od  gave  us  a  token  for 
good,  four  of  the  children  receiving  a  clear  sense  of  pardon. 
But  at  present  the  school  does  not  in  any  wise  answer  the 
design  of  its  institution,  either  with  regard  to  religion  or  learn- 
ing. The  children  are  not  religious  ;  they  have  not  the  pow- 
er, and  hardly  the  form,  of  religion.  Neither  do  they  improve 
in  learning  better  than  at  other  schools:  no,  nor  yet  so  well. 
Insomuch  that  some  of  our  friends  have  been  obliged  to  re- 
move their  children  to  other  schools.  And  no  wonder  they 
improve  so  little  either  in  religion  or  learning;  for  the  rules 
of  the  school  are  not  observed  at  all.  All  in  the  house  ought 
to  rise,  take  their  three  meals,  and  go  to  bed  at  a  fixed  hour. 
But  they  do  not.  The  children  ought  never  to  be  alone  ;  but 
always  in  the  presence  of  a  master.  This  is  totally  neglect- 
ed ;  in  consequence  of  which  they  run  up  and  dowu  the  road, 
and  mix,  yea  fight,  with  the  colliers'  children. 

'  How  may  these  evils  be  remedied,  and  the  school  reduced 
to  its  original  plan  ?  It  must  be  mended  or  ended,  for  no  school, 
is  better  than  the  present  school.' 

"  This  censure  is  perfectly  correct,  it  was  the  worst  school 
I  had  ever  seen,  and  though  the  teachers  were  men  of  ade- 
quate learning ;  yet  as  the  school  was  perfectly  disorganized, 
and  in  several  respects  each  did  what  was  right  in  his  own 
eyes,  and  there  was  no  efficient  plan  pursued,  they  mocked  at 
religion,  and  trampled  under  foot  all  the  laws.  The  little 
children  of  the  preachers  suffered  great  indignities  ;  and,  it  is 
to  be  feared,  their  treatment  there  gave  many  of  them  a  rooted 
enmity  against  piety  and  religion  for  life.  The  parlour  board- 
ers had  every  kind  of  respect  paid  to  them,  and  the  others 
were  shamefully  neglected.  Had  this  most  gross  mismanage- 
ment been  known  to  the  Methodist  preachers,  they  would 
have  suffered  their  sons  to  die  in  ignorance,  rather  than  have 
sent  them  to  a  place  where  there  was  scarcely  any  care  taken 
either  of  their  bodies  or  souls. 

"  I  found  to  my  great  discomfort,  all  the  hints  thrown  out 
by  Mr.  B.  and  my  Birmingham  friends  more  than  realized. 
The  school  has  certainly  been  '  mended1  since ;  and  is  now 
stated  to  be  in  a  progressive  state  of  greater  improvement  than 
ever.  May  it  ever  answer,  in  every  respect  the  great  end 
which  its  most  excellent  founder  proposed  when  he  laid  its 
first  stone,  and  drew  up  its  rules. 

"  But  to  return  to  the  remainder  of  my  short  stay  in  Kings- 
wood. 

"  I  have  already  noticed  that,  for  the  sake  of  exercise,  I 
often  worked  in  the  garden.    Observing  one  day  a  small  plot 


4 


TREATMENT  AT  KING3W00D  SCHOOL. 


143 


•which  had  been  awkwardly  turned  over  by  one  of  the  boys,  I 
took  the  spade  and  began  to  dress  it :  in  breaking  one  of  the 
clods,  I  knocked  a  half-guinea  out  of  it.  I  took  it  up  and  im- 
mediately said  to  myself,  this  is  not  mine ;  it  belongs  not  to 
any  of  my  family,  for  they  have  never  been  here  ;  I  will  take 
the  first  opportunity  to  give  it  to  Mr.  Simpson.  Shortly  after, 
I  perceived  him  walking  in  the  garden,  I  went  to  him,  told 
him  the  circumstance,  and  presented  the  half-guinea  to  him; 
he  took  it,  looked  at  it,  and  said,  '  It  may  be  mine,  as  several 
hundred  pounds  pass  through  my  hands  in  the  course  of  the 
year,  for  the  expenses  of  this  school ;  but  I  do  not  recollect 
that  I  ever  lost  any  money  since  I  came  here.  Probably  one  of 
the  gentlemen  has;  keep  it,  and  in  the  mean  time  I  will  in- 
quire.' I  said,  '  sir,  it  is  not  mine,  take  you  the  money,  if  you 
meet  the  right  owner,  well ;  if  not,  throw  it  in  the  funds  of  the 
school.'  He  answered,  '  You  must  keep  it  till  I  make  the  en- 
quiry.' I  took  it  again  with  reluctance.  The  next  day  he 
told  me  that  Mr.  Bayley  had  lost  a  half-guinea,  and  I  might 
give  it  to  him  the  first  time  I  saw  him  ;  I  did  so  :— three  days 
afterwards  Mr.  Bayley  came  to  me  and  said, '  Mr.  C.  it  is  true, 
that  I  lost  a  half-guinea,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  this  is  the  half 
guinea  I  lost ;  unless  I  were  so,  I  could  not  conscientiously 
keep  it;  therefore  you  must  take  it  again.'  I  said,  '  It  is  not 
mine,  probably  it  is  yours;  therefore  I  cannot  take  it.'  He 
answered,  'I  will  not  keep  it:  I  have  been  uneasy  in  my 
mind  ever  since  it  came  into  my  possession;^  and,  in  saying 
this,  he  forced  the  gold  into  my  hand.  Mr.  Simpson  was 
present :  I  then  presented  it  to  him,  saying,  *  Here; Mr.  S.,  take 
you  it,  and  apply  it  to  the  use  of  the  school.'  He  turned  away 
nastily  as  from  something  ominous,  and  said.  '  I  declare  I  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  it.'  So  it  was  obliged  to  remain  with 
its  finder,  and  formed  a  grand  addition  to  a  purse  that  already 
possessed  only  three  half-pence. 

"Was  this  providential?  1.  I  was  poor,  not  worth  two- 
pence in  the  world,  and  needed  some  important  articles.  2.  I 
was  out  of  the  reach  of  all  supplies,  and  could  be  helped  only 
from  heaven.  3.  How  is  it  that  the  lad  who  had  dug  the 
ground  did  not  find  the  money :  it  was  in  a  clod  less  than  a 
man's  fist.  4.  How  came  it  that  Mr.  B.,  who  knew  he  had 
lost  a  half-guinea,  somewhere  about  the  premises,  could  not 
appropriate  this,  but  was  miserable  in  his  mind  for  two  or  three 
days  and  nights,  and  could  have  no  rest  till  he  returned  it  to 
me?  5.  How  came  it  that  Mr.  S.  was  so  horrified  with  the 
poor  half-guinea  that  he  dared  not  even  throw  it  into  the  cha- 
ritable fund  ?  6.  Did  the  Providence  of  God  send  this  to  me, 
knowing  that  I  stood  in  need  of  such  a  supply  ? 

"  The  story  is  before  the  Reader,  he  may  draw  wha  t  infer- 
ence he  pleases.  One  thing,  however,  I  may  add. — Besides 
two  or  three  necessary  articles  which  I  purchased,  I  gave  Mr. 


J  44 


TREATMENT  AT  KINGSWOOD  SCHOOL. 


Bay  ley  6s.  as  my  subscription  for  his  Hebrew  Grammar :  by 
which  work  I  acquired  a  satisfactory  knowledge  of  that  lan- 
guage, which  ultimately  led  me  to  read  over  the  Hebrew 
Bible,  and  make  those  short  notes  which  formed  the  basis  of 
the  Commentary  since  published  !  Had  I  not  got  that  Gram- 
mar I  probably  should  never  have  turned  my  mind  to  Hebrew 
learning ;  and  most  certainly  had  never  written  a  Commentary 
on  Divine  Revelation !  Behold  how  great  matter  a  little  fire 
kindleth  !  My  pocket  was  not  entirely  empty  of  the  remains 
of  this  half-guinea,  till  other  supplies,  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
God's  Providence  came  in !  O  God  !  the  silver  and  the  gold 
are  thine  :  so  are  the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills. 

"  At  length  Mr.  Wesley  returned  to  Bristol.  The  day  he 
came,  Mr.  Simpson  went  in  and  had  an  interview  with  him  ; 
and  I  suppose  told  his  own  tale, — that  they  had  not  room,  that 
it  was  a  pity  I  should  not  be  out  in  the  general  work ;  and  I 
was  told  that  Mr.  W.  wished  to  see  me.  I  had  this  privilege 
for  the  first  time,  on  September  6th.  I  went  into  Bristol,  saw 
Mr.  Rankin,  who  carried  me  to  Mr.  Wesley's  study,  off  the 
great  lobby  of  the  rooms  over  the  Chapel  in  Broadmead.  He 
tapped  at  the  door,  which  was  opened  by  this  truly  apostolic 
man  :  Mr.  R.  retired :  Mr.  W.  took  me  kindly  by  the  hand,  and 
asked  me,  '  How  long  since  I  had  left  Ireland  V  Our  conver- 
sation was  short.  He  said, '  Well,  brother  Clarke,  do  you  wish 
to  devote  yourself  entirely  to  the  work  of  God  ?'  I  answered, 
'  Sir,  I  wish  to  do  and  be  what  God  pleases !'  He  then  said, 
'  We  want  a  preacher  for  Bradford  (Wilts ;)  hold  yourself  in 
readiness  to  go  thither ;  I  am  going  into  the  country,  and  will 
let  you  know  when  you  shall  go.'  He  then  turned  to  me,  laid 
his  hands  upon  my  head,  and  spent  a  few  moments  in  praying 
to  God  to  bless  and  preserve  me,  and  to  give  me  success  in  the 
work  to  which  I  was  called. 

"  I  departed,  having  now  received,  in  addition  to  my  ap- 
pointment from  God  to  preach  His  gospel,  the  only  authority 
I  could  have  from  man,  in  that  line  in  which  I  was  to  exer- 
cise the  Ministry  of  the  Divine  Word. 

"  That  evening  Mr.  Wesley  preached  in  the  chapel  from 
Zech.  iv.  6.,  Not  by  might,  nor  by  power,  but  by  my  Spirit, 
sa  ilh  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  In  this  Sermon,  which  was  little 
else  than  a  simple  narrative  of  facts,  he  gave  a  succinct  ac- 
count of  the  rise  and  progress  of  what  is  called  Methodism  : 
its  commencement  in  Oxford,  occasioned  by  himself  and  his 
brother  Charles,  and  a  few  other  young  men,  setting  apart  a 
certain  portion  of  time  to  read  the  Greek  Testament,  and  care- 
fully to  note  the  doctrines  and  precepts  of  the  gospel;  and  to 
pray  for  inward  and  outward  holiness,  &c.  With  and  by  these 
God  had  condescended  to  work  a  work,  the  greatest  that  had 
been  wrought  in  any  nation  since  the  days  of  the  Apostles. 
That  the  instruments  which  he  employed  were,  humanly 


■ 


TREATMENT  AT  KING6WO0D  SCHOOL.  145 

speaking,  not  at  all  calculated  to  produce  such  a  glorious  ef- 
fect;— they  had  no  might  as  to  extraordinary  learning,  philo- 
sophy, or  rhetorical  abilities : — they  had  no  power,  either  eccle- 
siastical or  civil ;  could  neither  command  attention,  nor  punish 
the  breach  of  order ;  and  yet  by  these  means  was  this  extra- 
ordinary work  wrought ;  and  in  such  a  manner  too  as  to  de- 
monstrate, thai  as  it  was  neither  by  might  nor  power,  it  was 
by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 

"  Had  this  relation  been  entirely  new  to  me,  I  should  have 
fell  more  interest  in  the  Sermon.  But  I  had  already  acquainted 
myself  with  the  history  of  Methodism,  of  which  the  present 
Sermon  was  an  abridgment.  The  Sermon  had  nothing  great 
in  it,  but  was  well  suited  to  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  preach- 
ed ;  viz.  to  lead  the  people  ever  to  consider  the  glorious  revival 
of  religion  which  they  witnessed,  as  the  work  of  God  alone  ; 
and  to  give  him  the  glory  ;  as  to  Him  alone  this  glory  was  due. 

"  Two  days  after  this,  (September  8,)  1  first  saw  Mr.  Charles 
Wesley,  and'  was  not  a  little  gratified  to  think  that  I  had,  by  a 
strange  series  of  providences,  been  brought  to  see  the  two  men 
whom  I  had  long  considered  as  the  very  highest  characters 
upon  the  face  of  the  globe  ;  and  as  the  most  favoured  instru- 
ments which  God  had  employed  since  the  days  of  the  twelve 
Apostles  to  revive  and  spread  genuine  Christianity  in  the  earth. 

"  It  was  not  till  the  26th  of  this  month  that  I  had  my  final 
instructions  to  set  off  to  my  circuit. 

"  A  young  man,  named  Edward  Itippon,  had  been,  on  too 
slight  an  authority,  recommended  to  Mr.  Wesley  at  the  Con- 
ference, which  had  been  held  at  Bristol  in  the  last  month,  as 
a  proper  person  to  travel,  and  he  was  accordingly  appointed 
for  Bradford,  (Wilts.)  When  the  time  came,  he  was  found 
to  be  unqualified  for  the  work,  and  he  declined  coming  out. 
To  supply  his  place,  I  was  appointed  for  that  circuit :  and  this 
is  the  reason  why  my  name  was  not  printed  in  the  Minutes 
that  year;  as  the  Conference  was  over  before  Mr.  Rippon's 
determination  was  known,  or  my  appointment  had  taken 
place.  And  by  a  blunder  of  all  editors  since  that  time,  Bip- 
pon's  name  stands  in  that  year  as  a  travelling  preacher  in 
the  Bradford  circuit,  though  he  never  travelled  an  hour  as  a 
Methodist  preacher  in  his  life. 

"  I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  add  about  Kingswood,  be- 
fore I  take  my  final  leave  of  it. 

"  When  Mr.  Wesley  had  returned  and  told  me  to  hold  my- 
self in  readiness  to  go  into  a  circuit,  I  was  brought  out  of  my 
prison  house,  had  a  bed  assigned  me  in  the  large  room  with 
the  rest  of  the  boys,  (for  about  forty  lay  in  the  same  chamber, 
each  in  a  separate  cot,  with  a  flock  bed,)  and  had  permission 
to  dine  with  the  family.  There  was  no  question  then  about 
itch,  or  any  thing  else;  whether  lever  had  it,  or  whether  7 
was  cured  of  it !  But  Mrs.  S.'s  authority  was  not  vet  at  an  end. 

n 


146 


HE  IS  CONFIRMED. 


It  was  soon  observed  at  table  that  1  drank  no  person's  health. 
The  truth  is,  I  had  ever  considered  it  an  absurd  and  senseless 
custom,  and  could  not  bring  my  mind  to  it.  At  this  table, 
every  person  when  he  drank  was  obliged  to  run  the  following 
gauntlet.  He  must  drink  the  health  of  Mr.  Simpson — Mrs. 
Simpson — Miss  Simpson — Mr.  Bayley — Mr'.  De  Boudry — all 
the  foreign  gentlemen — then  all  the  parlour  boarders,  down 
one  side  of  the  long  table,  and  up  the  other,  one  by  one,  and 
all  the  visitors  who  might  happen  to  be  there  : — after  which  it 
was  lawful  for  him  to  drink  his  glass  of  beer. 

"On  Mrs.  Simpson's  insisting  upon  my  going  through  this 
routine,  and  drinking  all  healths,  I  told  her  I  had  a  scruple  of 
conscience,  and  could  not  submit  to  it  till  better  informed  ; 
and  hoped  she  would  not  insist  on  it.  She  answered,  '  You 
certainly  shall :  you  shall  not  drink  at  table  unless  you  drink 
the  healths  of  the  company  as  the  others  do.  Mr.  Wesley 
drinks  healths  ;  Mr.  Fletcher  does  the  same ;  but  you  will  not. 
do  it,  because  of  course  you  have  more  wisdom  and  piety  than 
they  have.'  To  this  I  could  not  reply.  I  was  in  Rome,  and 
it  would  have  been  absurd  in  me  to  have  attempted  to  contend 
with  the  pope.  The  consequence  was,  I  never  had  a  drop  ot 
fluid  with  my  meat  during  the  rest  of  my  stay  at  this  place. 
This  was  a  sore  trial  to  me,  for  I  never  had  an  easy  degluti- 
tion, and  was  always  obliged  to  sip  with  my  food,  in  order  to 
get  it  easily  swallowed.  I  had  now  no  help,  but  to  take  very 
small  bits,  and  eat  little ;  and  then  go  out  to  the  vile  straining 
stone  behind  the  kitchen,  for  some  of  the  half-putrid  pit  water ; 
and  thus  terminate  my  unsatisfactory  meal. 

"  The  tyranny  of  Mrs.  S.  in  this  was  truly  execrable.  I 
omitted  from  conviction  a  practice  which  I  judged  to  be  at 
least  foolish  and  absurd :  and  none  of  them  could  furnish 
the  shadow  of  an  argument  in  vindication  of  their  own  con- 
duct, or  in  confutation  of  mine.  I  have  however  lived  long 
enough  to  see  almost  the  whole  nation  come  over  to  my  side. 

"  It  was  at  this  time  that  the  Bishop  of  Bristol  held  a  confir- 
mation in  the  collegiate  church.  I  had  never  been  confirmed  , 
and  as  I  had  a  high  respect  for  all  the  rites  and  ceremonies  ol 
the  Church,  I  wished  to  embrace  this  opportunity  to  get  the 
blessing  of  that  amiable  and  apostolic  looking  prelate,  Dr.  Lewis 
Bagot.  I  asked  permission ;  several  of  the  preachers'  sons 
went  with  me  ;  and  I  felt  much  satisfaction  in  this  ordinance; 
to  me  it  was  very  solemn,  and  the  whole  was  well  conducted. 
Mrs.  S.,  who  was  a  Presbyterian,  pitied  my  being  so  long '  held 
in  the  oldness  of  the  letter.'  I  have  lived  nearly  forty  years 
since  ;  and  upon  this  point  my  sentiments  are  not  changed. 

"  My  stay  was  now  terminated  at  Kingswood  school.  On  the 
morning  of  Sept.  26th,  I  left  it,  walked  to  Hanham:  from 
thence  to  Bath,  where  I  heard  Mr.  Wesley  preach  :  and  from 
Bath  I  walked  to  Bradford,  where  I  again  heard  him  preach  in 


LEAVES  KINGSWOOD. 


117 


the  evening.  That  night  I  lodged  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Pearce; 
a  man  who  was  a  pattern  of  every  excellence  that  constitutes 
the  Christian  character :  and  the  next  day  I  set  out  into  my 
circuit,  of  which  Trowbridge  was  the  first  place. 

"  Though  burdened  with  a  sense  of  my  great  unfitness  for 
the  work  into  which  I  was  going,  yet  I  left  Kingswood  without 
a  sigh  or  a  groan.  It  had  been  to  me  a  place  of  unworthy  treat- 
ment, not  to  say  torment :  but  this  had  lasted  only  one  month 
and  two  days  ;  thirty-one  days  too  much,  if  God  had  not  been 
pleased  to  order  it  otherwise.  But  the  impressions  made  upon 
my  mind  by  the  bad  usage  I  received  there,  have  never  been 
erased :  a  sight  of  the  place  has  ever  filled  me  with  distressing 
sensations  ;  and  the  bare  recollection  of  the  name  never  fails  to 
bring  with  it  associations  both  unpleasant  and  painful.  Those 
who  were  instruments  of  my  tribulation  are  gone  to  another 
tribunal ;  and  against  them  I  never  made  any  complaint." 

A  younger  person  than  Adam  Clarke,  had  probably  never 
gone  out  into  the  work  of  the  ministry  among  the  Methodists, 
or  perhaps  among  any  other  people :  and  had  not  his  been  a 
case  peculiar  and  singular,  and  which  should  never  pass  into  a 
precedent,  it  would  have  been  imprudent  to  have  appointed  so 
young  a  man  to  such  a  work,  both  for  his  own  sake,  and  for  the 
sake  of  those  who  were  to  sit  under  his  ministry. 

Mr.  C.  was  judged  to  be  at.  this  time  about  eighteen;  and 
even  small  and  youthful  taken  for  that  age  :  he  was  a  mere 
boy,  and  was  generally  denominated  the  little  boy.  But  he  was  in 
a  very  particular  manner  fitted  for  the  work,  by  strong  exercises 
of  spirit,  and  by  much  experience  and  knowledge  of  his  own 
heart,  of  the  temptations  of  Satan,  and  of  the  goodness  of  God. 

His  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures  could  not  be  extensive; 
but  it  was  very  correct  as  far  as  it  went. 

Of  the  plan  of  salvation  he  had  the  most  accurate  know- 
ledge ;  and  in  this  respect,  his  trump'. t  could  not  give  an  un- 
certain sound.  He  had  received  the  word  from  God's  mouth, 
and  he  gave  the  people  warning  from  Him.  He  well  knew 
those  portions  which  applied  to  the  stout-hearted  and  far  from 
righteousness — to  the  penitent — the  strongly  tempted — the 
lukewarm — the  believer — the  backslider— and  the  self-right- 
eous. AH  these  states  he  could  readily  discern ;  and  knew  well 
how  to  address  them.  Besides,  his  zeal  knew  no  other  bounds 
than  those  that  limit  the  human  race  ;  and  its  exertions  under 
that  influence,  were  confined  only  within  the  limits  of  his  cor- 
poreal and  mental  strength.  The  Biblew&s  his  one  book;  and 
Prayer  his  continual  exercise.  He  frequently  read  it  upon  his 
knees ;  and  often  watered  it  with  his  tears.  He  never  entered 
the  pulpit  but  with  the  conviction  that  if  God  did  not  help  him 
by  the  influence  of  his  Spirit,  his  heart  must  be  hard,  and  his 
mind  dark,  and  consequently  his  word  be  without  unction,  and 


146 


HE  IS  CONFIRMED. 


It  was  soon  observed  at  table  that  1  drank  no  person's  health. 
The  truth  is,  I  had  ever  considered  it  an  absurd  and  senseless 
Custom,  and  could  not  bring  my  mind  to  it.  At  this  table, 
every  person  when  he  drank  was  obliged  to  run  the  following 
gauntlet.  He  must  drink  the  health  of  Mr.  Simpson — Mrs. 
Simpson— Miss  Simpson — Mr.  Bayley — Mr'.  De  Boudry — all 
the  foreign  gentlemen — then  all  the  parlour  boarders,  down 
one  side  of  the  long  table,  and  up  the  other,  one  by  one,  and 
all  the  visitors  who  might  happen  to  be  there  : — after  which  it 
was  lawful  for  him  to  drink  his  glass  of  beer. 

"On  Mrs.  Simpson's  insisting  upon  my  going  through  this 
routine,  and  drinking  all  healths,  I  told  her  I  had  a  scrapie  of 
conscience,  and  could  not  submit  to  it  till  better  informed  ; 
and  hoped  she  would  not  insist  on  it.  She  answered,  '  You 
certainly  shall :  you  shall  not  drink  at  table  unless  you  drink 
the  healths  of  the  company  as  the  others  do.  Mr.  Wesley 
drinks  healths  ;  Mr.  Fletcher  does  the  same  ;  but  you  will  not 
do  it,  because  of  course  you  have  more  wisdom  and  piety  than 
they  have.'  To  this  I  could  not  reply.  I  was  in  Rome,  and 
it  would  have  been  absurd  in  me  to  have  attempted  to  contend 
with  the  pope.  The  consequence  was,  I  never  had  a  drop  ol 
fluid  with  my  meat  during  the  rest  of  my  stay  at  this  place. 
This  was  a  sore  trial  to  me,  for  I  never  had  an  easy  degluti- 
tion, and  was  always  obliged  to  sip  with  my  food,  in  order  to 
get  it  easily  swallowed.  I  had  now  no  help,  but  to  take  very 
small  bits,  and  eat  little  ;  and  then  go  out  to  the  vile  straining 
stone  behind  the  kitchen,  for  some  of  the  half-putrid  pit  water ; 
and  thus  terminate  my  unsatisfactory  meal. 

"  The  tyranny  of  Mrs.  S.  in  this  was  truly  execrable.  I 
omitted  from  conviction  a  practice  which  I  judged  to  be  at 
least  foolish  and  absurd :  and  none  of  them  could  furnish 
the  shadow  of  an  argument  in  vindication  of  their  own  con- 
duct, or  in  confutation  of  mine.  1  have  however  lived  long 
enough  to  see  almost  the  whole  nation  come  over  to  my  side. 

"  It  was  at  this  time  that  the  Bishop  of  Bristol  held  a  confir- 
mation in  the  collegiate  church.  I  had  never  been  confirmed  , 
and  as  I  had  a  high  respect  for  all  the  rites  and  ceremonies  ot 
the  Church,  I  wished  to  embrace  this  opportunity  to  get  the 
blessing  of  that  amiable  and  apostolic  looking  prelate,  Dr.  Lewis 
Bagot.  I  asked  permission ;  several  of  the  preachers'  sons 
went  with  me  ;  and  I  felt  much  satisfaction  in  this  ordinance; 
to  me  it  was  very  solemn,  and  the  whole  was  well  conducted. 
Mrs.  S.,  who  was  a  Presbyterian,  pitied  my  being  so  long '  held 
in  the  oldness  of  the  letter.'  I  have  lived  nearly  forty  years 
since  ;  and  upon  this  point  my  sentiments  are  not  changed. 

"  My  stay  was  now  terminated  at  Kingswood  school.  On  the 
morning  of  Sept.  26th,  I  left  it,  walked  to  Hanham:  from 
thence  to  Bath,  where  I  heard  Mr.  Wesley  preach  :  and  from 
Bath  I  walked  to  Bradford,  where  I  again  heard  him  preach  in 


4 


LEAVES  KINGSWOOD. 


147 


the  evening.  That  night  I  lodged  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Pearce; 
a  man  who  was  a  pattern  of  every  excellence  that  constitutes 
the  Christian  character:  and  the  next  day  I  set  out  into  my 
circuit,  of  which  Trowbridge  was  the  first  place. 

"  Though  burdened  with  a  sense  of  my  great  unfitness  for 
the  work  into  which  I  was  going,  yet  I  left  Kingswood  without 
a  sigh  or  a  groan.  It  had  been  to  me  a  place  of  unworthy  treat- 
ment, not  to  say  torment :  but  this  had  lasted  only  one  month 
and  two  days  ;  thirty-one  days  too  much,  if  God  had  not  been 
pleased  to  order  it  otherwise.  But  the  impressions  made  upon 
my  mind  by  the  bad  usage  I  received  there,  have  never  been 
erased :  a  sight  of  the  place  has  ever  filled  me  with  distressing 
sensations  ;  and  the  bare  recollection  of  the  name  never  fails  to 
bring  with  it  associations  both  unpleasant  and  painful.  Those 
who  were  instruments  of  my  tribulation  are  gone  to  another 
tribunal ;  and  against  them  I  never  made  any  complaint." 

A  younger  person  than  Adam  Clarke,  had  probably  never 
gone  out  into  the  work  of  the  ministry  among  the  Methodists, 
or  perhaps  among  any  other  people :  and  had  not  his  been  a 
case  peculiar  and  singular,  and  which  should  never  pass  into  a 
precedent,  it  would  have  been  imprudent  to  have  appointed  so 
young  a  man  to  such  a  work,  both  for  his  own  sake,  and  for  the 
sake  of  those  who  were  to  sit  under  his  ministry. 

Mr.  C.  was  judged  to  be  at  this  time  about  eighteen;  and 
even  small  and  youthful  taken  for  that  age  :  he  was  a  mere 
boy,  and  was  generally  denominated  the  little  boy.  But  he  was  in 
a  very  particular  manner  fitted  fdr  the  work,  by  strong  exercises 
of  spirit,  and  by  much  experience  and  knowledge  of  his  own 
heart,  of  the  temptations  of  Satan,  and  of  the  goodness  of  God. 

His  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures  could  not  be  extensive; 
but  it  was  very  correct  as  far  as  it  went. 

Of  the  plan  of  salvation  he  had  the  most  accurate  know- 
ledge ;  and  in  this  respect,  his  trumpu  could  not  give  an  un- 
certain sound.  He  had  received  the  word  from  God's  mouth, 
and  he  gave  the  people  warning  from  Him.  He  well  knew 
those  portions  which  applied  to  the  stout-hearted  and  far  from 
righteousness — to  the  penitent — the  strongly  tempted — the 
lukewarm — the  believer — the  backslider— and  the  self-right- 
eous. All  these  states  he  could  readily  discern ;  and  knew  well 
how  to  address  them.  Besides,  his  zeal  knew  no  other  bounds 
than  those  that  limit  the  human  race  ;  and  its  exertions  under 
that  influence,  were  confined  only  within  the  limits  of  his  cor- 
poreal and  mental  strength.  The  Biblewas  his  one  book;  and 
Prayer  his  continual  exercise.  He  frequently  read  it  upon  his 
knees  ;  and  often  watered  it  with  his  tears.  He  never  entered 
the  pulpit  but  with  the  conviction  that  if  God  did  not  help  him 
by  the  influence  of  his  Spirit,  his  heart  must  be  hard,  and  his 
mind  dark,  and  consequently  his  word  be  without  unction,  and 


148 


HIS  CREED. 


without  effect.  For  this  influence  he  besought  God  with  strong 
crying  and  tears  ;  and  he  was  seldom,  if  ever,  left  to  himself. 

With  respect,  to  preaching  itself,  his  diffidence  was  ex- 
treme ;  and  he  felt  it  as  a  heavy  burden  which  God  had  laid 
upon  his  shoulders ;  and  under  which  God  alone  could  sup- 
port him :  and,  as  he  found  in  this  case  most  emphatically, 
without  God  he  could  do  nothing;  he  was  therefore  led  to 
watch  and  pray  most  earnestly  and  diligently,  that  he  might 
be  enabled  to  hold  fast  faith  and  a  good  conscience,  that  con- 
tinuing in  God's  favour,  he  might  have  reason  to  expect  his 
support. 

Of  the  Methodists'  economy,  as  it  respected  secular  things, 
he  knew  little :  it  never  entered  into  his  mind  that  he  was  to 
have  anything  but  his  food:  as  to  clothing,  he  did  not  antici- 
pate the  thought  of  needing  any.  Purer  motives,  greater  dis- 
interestedness, never  dwelt  in  the  breast  of  human  being:  he 
sought  nothing  but  the  favour  of  his  Maker,  and  the  salvation 
of  souls,  and  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  thfs  work. 

Of  learning,  he  did  not  boast ;  because  he  believed  that  he 
could  not.  He  knew  that  he  had  the  rudiments  of  literature,  a 
moderate  classical  taste,  and  an  insatiable  thirst  for  know- 
ledge ;  especially  the  knowledge  of  God  and  His  works  :  his 
mind  was  not  highly  cultivated,  but  the  soil  was  broken  up, 
and  was,  in  every  respect,  improvable.  Such  were  the 
qualifications  of  Adam  Clarke,  when,  on  Sept.  27,  1782,  he 
went  out  as  an  itinerant  preacher  among  the  people  called 
Methodists. 

It  has  already  been  stated,  that  a  thorough  reading  of  the 
New  Testament  settled  his  Creed;  no  article  of  which  he 
ever  afterwards  saw  occasion  to  change.  The  principal 
Articles  were  the  following  :  and  for  these  he  believed  he  had 
the  unequivocal  testimony  of  Scripture,  the  steady  voice  of 
reason,  and  thcevidence  of  facts,  as  far  as  these  could  apply 
to  the  articles  in  question. 

"I.  That  there  is  but  one  uncreated,  unoriginated,  infinite, 
and  eternal  Being ; — the  Creator,  Preserver,  and  Governor  of 
all  things. 

"  II.  There  is  in  this  Infinite  Essence  a  Plurality  of  what 
we  commonly  call  Persons;  not  separately  subsisting,  but 
essentially  belonging  to  the  Deity  or  Godhead;  which  Per- 
sons are  generally  termed  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ;  or, 
God,  the  Logos,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  are  usually  desig- 
nated the  Trinity;  which  term,  though  not  found  iu  the 
Scriptures,  seems  properly  enough  applied  ;  as  we  repeat- 
edly read  of  these  Three,  and  never  of  more  persons  in  the 
Godhead. 

"III.  The  Sacred  Scriptures  or  Holy  Books,  which  con- 


HIS  CRF.ED. 


149 


stitute  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  contain  a  full  revelation 
of  the  will  of  God,  in  reference  to  man ;  and  are  alone  suffi- 
cient for  every  thing  relative  to  the  faith  and  practice  of  a 
Christian,  and  were  given  by  the  inspiration  of  God. 

"  IV.  Man  was  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness, 
without  any  moral  imperfection,  or  any  kind  of  propensity  to 
sin ;  but  free  to  stand  or  fall,  according  to  the  use  of  the 
powers  and  faculties  he  received  from  his  Creator. 

"  V.  He  fell  from  this  state,  became  morally  corrupt  in  his  na- 
ture, and  transmitted  his  moral  defilement  to  all  his  posterity. 

"  VI.  To  counteract  the  evil  principle  in  the  heart  of  man, 
and  bring  him  into  a  salvable  state,  God,  from  his  infinite  love, 
formed  the  purpose  of  redeeming  him  from  his  lost  estate,  by 
the  incarnation,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  of  Jesus  Christ;  and, 
in  the  interim,  sent  his  Holy  Spirit  to  enlighten,  strive  with, 
and  convince,  men  of  sin.,  righteousness,  and  judgment. 

"  VII.  In  due  time  this  Divine  Person,  called  the  Logos, 
Word,  Saviour,  &c,  &c,  did  become  incarnate ;  sojourned 
among  men,  teaching  the  purest  truth,  and  working  the  most 
stupendous  and  beneficent  miracles. 

"  VIII.  The  above  Person  is  really  and  properly  God  :  was 
foretold  as  such,  by  the  Prophets :  described  as  such,  by  the 
Evangelists  and  Apostles ;  and  proved  to  be  such,  by  His  mi- 
racles ;  and  has  assigned  to  Him  by  the  inspired  writers  in 
general,  every  attribute  essential  to  the  Deity ;  being  One  with 
Him  who  is  called  God,  Jehovah,  Lord,  &c. 

"  IX.  He  is  also  a  perfect  Man,  in  consequence  of  His  In- 
carnation ;  and  in  that  Man,  or  Manhood,  dwelt  all  the  ful- 
ness of  the  Godhead  bodily :  so  that  His  nature  is  twofold — 
Divine  and  Human,  or  God  manifested  in  the  flesh. 

"  X.  His  Human  Nature  was  begotten  of  the  blessed  Vir- 
gin Mary,  through  the  creative  energy  of  the  Holy  Ghost :  but 
His  Divine  Nature,  because  God,  infinite  and  eternal,  is  un- 
created, underived,  and  unbegotten  ;  and  which,  were  it  other- 
wise, He  could  not  be  God  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  word : 
but  He  is  most  explicitly  declared  to  be  God  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures ;  and  therefore  the  doctrine  of  the  Eternal  Sonship,  must 
necessarily  be  false. — (See  the  Arg.  p.  96.) 

"  XI.  As  He  took  upon  Him  the  nature  of  man,  and  died  in 
that  nature;  therefore,  He  died  for  the  whole  human  race, 
without  respect  of  persons :  equally  for  all  and  every  man. 

"  XII.  On  the  third  day  after  His  crucifixion,  and  burial, 
He  rose  from  the  dead;  and  after  shewing  himself  many  days 
to  His  disciples  and  others,  He  ascended  into  Heaven,  where, 
as  God  manifested  in  the  Flesh,  He  is,  and  shall  continue  to 
be,  the  Mediator  of  the  human  race,  till  the  consummation  ot 
all  things. 

"XIII.  There  is  no  salvation,  but  through  him;  and 
throughout  the  Scriptures  His  Passion  and  Death,  are  con- 


150 


His  G&B88, 


sidercd  as  Sacrificial :  pardon  of  sin  and  final  salvation  being 
obtained  by  the  alone  shedding  of  His  blood. 

"XIV.  No  human  being,  since  the  fait,  either  has,  or  can 
have,  merit  or  worthiness  of,  or  by,  himself ;  and  therefore, 
has  nothing  to  claim  from  God,  but  in  the  way  of  His  mercy 
through  Christ :  therefore,  pardon  and  every  other  blessing, 
promised  in  the  Gospel,  have  been  purchased  by  His  Sacrifi- 
cial Death  ;  and  are  given  to  men,  not  on  the  account  of  any 
thing  they  have  done  or  suffered ;  or  can  do  or  suffer ;  but  for 
His  sake,  or  through  his  meritorious  passion  and  death,  alone. 

"XV.  These  blessings  are  received  by  faith  ;  because  they 
are  not  of  works  nor  of  suffering. 

"  XVI.  The  power  to  believe,  or  grace  of  faith,  is  the  free 
gift  of  God,  without  which  no  man  can  be'lieve:  but  the  act 
of  faith,  or  actually  believing,  is  the  act  of  the  soul  under  that 
power :  this  power  is  withheld  from  no  man  ;  but,  like  all  other 
gifts  of  God,  it  may  be  slighted,  not  used,  or  misused,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  is  that  declaration,  He  that  believeth  shall 
be  saved  ;  but  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned. 

"  XVII.  Jiist  if  cation,  or  the  pardon  of  sin,  is  an  instanta- 
neous act  of  God's  mercy  in  behalf  of  a  penitent  sinner,  trust- 
ing only  in  the  merits  of  "Jesus  Christ :  and  this  act  is  absolute 
in  reference  to  all  past  sin,  all  being  forgiven  where  any  is 
forgiven :  gradual  pardon,  or  progressive  justification,  being 
unscriptural  and  absurd. 

"XVIII.  The  souls  of  all  believers  may  be  purified  from 
nil  sin  in  this  life ;  and  a  man  may  live  under  the  continual 
influence  of  the  grace  of  Christ,  so  as  not  to  sin  against  God. 
All  sinful  tempers  and  evil  propensities  being  destroyed,  and 
his  heart  constantly  filled  with  pure  love  both  to  God  and 
man ;  and,  as  love  is  the  principle  of  obedience,  he  who  loves 
God  with  all  his  heart,  soul,  mind,  and  strength,  and  his 
neighbour  as  himself,  is  incapable  of  doing  wrong  to  either. 

"XIX.  Unless  a  believer  live  and  walk  in  the  spirit  of  obe- 
dience, he  will  fall  from  the  grace  of  God,  and  forfeit  all  his 
Christian  privileges  and  rights ;  and,  although  he  may  be 
restored  to  the  favour  and  image  of  his  Maker  from  which  he 
has  fallen,  yet  it  is  possible  that  he  may  continue  under  the 
influence  or  this  fall,  and  perish  everlastingly. 

"  XX.  The  whole  period  of  human  life  is  a  state  of  pro- 
bation, in  every  point  of  which  a  sinner  may  repent,  and  turn 
to  God:  and  in  every  point  of  it,  a  believer  may  give  way  to 
sin,  and  fall  from  grace:  and  this  possibility  of  rising  or  fall- 
ing is  essential  to  a  state  of  trial  or  probation. 

"XXI.  All  the  promises  and  threatenings  of  the  Sacred 
Writings,  as  they  regard  man  in  reference  to  his  being  here 
and  hereafter,  are  conditional ;  and  it  is  on  this  ground  alone 
that  the  Holy  Scriptures  can  be  consistently  interpreted  or 
rightly  understood. 


HIS  CREED. 


151 


"XXII.  Man  is  a  free  agent,  never  being  impelled  by  any 
necessitating  influence,  either  to  do  good,  or  evil :  but  has  the 
continual  power  to  choose  the  life  or  the  death  that  are  set  be- 
fore him ;  on  which  ground  he  is  an  accountable  being,  and 
answerable  for  his  own  actions :  and  on  this  ground  also  he  is 
alone  capable  of  being  rewarded  or  punished. 

<: XXIII.  The  free  will  of  man  is  a  necessary  constituent 
of  his  rational  soul ;  without  which  he  must  be  a  mere  machine, 
— either  the  sport  of  blind  chance,  or  the  mere  patient  of  an 
irresistible  necessity ;  and  consequently,  not  accountable  for 
any  acts  which  were  predetermined,  and  to  which  he  was  ir- 
resistibly compelled. 

"  XXIV.  Every  human  being  has  this  freedom  of  will,  with 
a  sufficiency  of  light  and  power  to  direct  its  operations  :  but 
this  powerful  light  is  not  inherent  in  any  man's  nature,  but  is 
graciously  bestowed  by  Him  who  is  The  true  Light  which 
Tightenelh.  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 

"XXV.  Jesus  Christ  has  made  by  His  one  offering  upon 
the  Cross,  a  sufficient  sacrifice,  oblation,  and  atonement  for 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world  ;  and  His  gracious  Spirit  strives 
with,  and  enlightens,  all  men ;  thus  putting  them  into  a  sal- 
vable  state :  therefore,  every  human  soul  may  be  saved  if  it 
be  not  his  own  fault. 

"XXVI.  Jesus  Christ  has  instituted,  and  commanded  to 
be  perpetuated,  in  His  Church,  two  sacraments  only: — 1. 
Baptism,  sprinkling,  washing  with,  or  immersion  in,  water, 
in  the  name  of  the  Holy  and  Ever-blessed  Trinity,  as  a  sign 
of  the  cleansing  or  regenerating  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
by  which  influence  a  death  unto  sin  and  a  new  birth  unto  right- 
eousness, are  produced :  and  2.  The  Eucharist,  or  Lord's 
Supper,  as  commemorating  the  sacrificial  death  of  Christ. 
And  he  instituted  the  first  to  be  once  only  administered  to  the 
same  person,  for  the  above  purpose,  and  as  a  rite  of  initiation 
into  the  visible  church  :  and  the  second,  that  by  its  frequent 
administration  all  believers  may  be  kept  in  mind  of  the  foun- 
dation on  which  their  salvation  is  built,  and  receive  grace  to 
enable  them  to  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  their  Saviour  in  all 
things. 

"XXVII.  The  soul  is  immaterial  and  immortal,  and  can 
subsist  independently  of  the  body. 

"  XXVIII.  There  will  be  a  general  Resurrection  of  the 
dead ;  both  of  the  just  and  the  unjust ;  when  the  souls  of 
both  shall  be  re-united  to  their  respective  bodies  ;  both  of 
which  will  be  immortal  and  live  eternally. 

"  XXIX.  There  will  be  a  general  Judgment ;  after  which 
all  shall  be  punished  or  rewarded,  according  to  the  deeds  done 
in  the  body  ;  and  the  wicked  shall  be  sent  to  hell,  and  the 
righteous  taken  to  heaven. 

"XXX.  These  states  of  rewards  and  punishments  shall 


152 


HIS  CREED. 


have  no  end,  for  as  much  as  the  time  oi'  trial  or  probation  shall 
then  be  for  ever  terminated ;  and  the  succeeding  state  must 
necessarily  be  fixed  and  unalterable. 

"  XXXI.  The  origin  of  human  salvation  is  found  in  the 
infinite  philanthropy  of  God  ;  and,  on  this  principle,  the  un- 
conditional reprobation  of  any  soul  is  absolutely  impossible. 

"  XXXII.  God  has  no  secret  will,  in  reference  to  man, 
which  is  contrary  to  his  revealed  will, — as  this  would  shew 
Him  to  be  an  insincere  Being, — professing  benevolence  to  all, 
while  he  secretly  purposed  that  that  benevolence  should  be  ex- 
tended only  to  a  few  ;  a  doctrine  which  appears  blasphemous 
as  it  respects  God, — and  subversive  of  all  moral  good  as  it  re- 
gards man,  and  totally  at  variance  with  the  infinite  rectitude  of 
the  Divine  Nature." 

It  is  thought  necessary  to  give  these  Articles  of  his  Creed 
in  his  own  words ;  for,  although  they  contain  nothing  but 
what  the  Church  of  God  has  received  from  its  very  founda- 
tion ;  yet,  the  manner  of  proposing  them  is  both  original  and 
precise,  and  well  calculated  to  convey  the  sense  of  each.  If 
ever  language  should  be  clear; — if  ever  terms  should  be 
strictly  and  accurately  defined,  and  used  in  the  most  fixed  and 
absolute  sense ; — it  is  when  they  are  used  to  express  the  ar- 
ticles of  a.  religious  creed:  a  subject  in  which  the  understand- 
ing and  judgment  are  most  intimately  concerned,  and  in 
which  man  has  his  all  at  stake. 

On  the  Tenth  Article,  relative  to  the  Eternal  Sonship  of 
Christ,  there  has  been  some  difference  between  him  and  some 
persons,  who,  in  all  other  respects,  held  precisely  the  same 
doctrines.  On  this  point,  he  has  often  been  heard  to  say  : — 
"  Let  my  Argument  on  Luke  i.  35,  be  proved  false,  which,  if 
it  could  be,  might  be  done  in  as  small  a  compass  as  that  of  the 
Argument  itself,  then  I  am  prepared  to  demonstrate,  from  the 
principles  of  the  Refutation,  that  Arianism.  is  the  genuine 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel  relative  to  the  Person  of  Jesus  Christ. 
But  as  that  Argument  cannot  be  confuted,  and  my  Argument 
in  favour  of  the  proper  Divinity  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  my  Sermon 
on  Salvation  by  Faith,  cannot  be  overthrown ;  consequently, 
the  doctrine  of  the  proper  and  essential  and  underived  Deity 
of  Jesus  Christ  must  stand,  and  that  of  the  Eternal  Sonship 
must  be  overwhelmed  in  its  own  error,  darkness,  and  confusion." 

With  the  above  Qualifications,  and  these  Doctrines,  Adam 
Clarke  went  out  into  the  vineyard  of  his  Lord,  not  to  inspect 
the  work  of  others,  but  to  labour  himself;  and  that  the  Great 
Head  of  the  Church  did,  in  the  most  signal  manner  bless  and 
prosper  this  labour,  has  been  witnessed  by  many  thousands 
among  whom  he  has  gone  preaching  the  kingdom  of  God  ; 
witnessing  powerfully  to  all, — Repentance  towards  God,  and 
faith  towards  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


HE  BECOMES  AN  ITINERANT  PREACHER. 


[53 


BOOK  IV. 


BRADFORD  (WILTS)  CIRCUIT,  1782—3. 

This  circuit  extended  into  three  counties,  Wilts,  Somerset, 
and  Dorset,  and  contained  at  that  time  the  following  places : 
Bradford,  Trowbridge,  Shaftsbury,  Motcomb,  Fontmill,  Pol- 
lard, Winsley.  Shepton  Mallet,  Kingston  Deverell,  Longbridge 
Deverell,  Bradley,  Frome,  Corsley,  Buckland,  Coalford,  Hol- 
comb,  Oak-hill.  Bruton,  West  Pennard,  Alhampton,  Ditcheat, 
Freshford,  Seend,  Melksham,  Devizes,  Pottern,  Sandy  Lane, 
Broomham,  Wells,  Walton,  and  Road ; — more  than  one  place 
for  every  day  in  the  month  ;  and  the  Preachers  rarely  stopped 
two  days  in  the  same  place,  and  were  almost  constantly  on 
horseback.  This  circumstance  was  advantageous  to  a  young 
preacher,  who  could  not  be  supposed  to  have  any  great  variety 
of  texts  or  of  matter,  and  consequently  not  able  as  yet  to  mi- 
nister constantly  to  the  same  congregation.  But,  as  Adam 
Clarke  diligently  read  the  scriptures,  prayed  much,  and  endea- 
voured to  improve  his  mind,  he  added  by  slow  degrees  to  his 
stock,  and  was  better  qualified  to  minister  each  time  of  his 
coming  round  his  circuit. 

His  youth  was  often  a  grievous  trial  to  him ;  and  was  the 
subject  of  many  perplexing  reasonings;  he  thought,  "How 
can  I  expect  that  men  and  -women,  persons  of  forty,  threescore, 
or  more  years,  will  come  out  to  hear  a  boy  preach  the  gospel ! 
And  is  it  likely,  if  through  curiosity  they  do  come,  that  they 
will  believe  what  /  say!  As  to  the  young,  they  are  too  gay 
and  giddy,  to  attend  to  divine  things  ;  and  if  so,  among  whom 
lies  the  probability  of  my  usefulness?" — In  every  place,  how- 
ever, the  attendance  wasgood,  at  least  equal  to  that  with  which 
his  fellow  labourers  were  favoured ;  and  the  people  in  every 
place  treated  him  with  the  greatest  kindness.  He  was  enabled 
to  act  so  that  no  man  despised  his  youth  ;  and  the  very  cir- 
cumstance which  he  thought  most  against  him,  was  that  pre- 
cisely from  which  he  gained  his  greatest  advantages. 

When  the  little  boy,  as  he  was  called,  came  to  any  place  to 
preach,  the  congregations  were  always  respectable,  and  in  many 
places  unusually  large  :  and  it  soon  appeared,  that  the  Divine 
Spirit  made  the  solemn  truths  he  spoke,  effectual  to  the  salva- 
tion of  many  souls. 

One  circtimstance  relative  to  this,  should  not  be  omitted. 


ir.4 


SUCCESS  IN  HIS  FIRST  CIRCDIT. 


Road,  a  country  village  between  Trowbridge  and  Frome,  was 
one  of  the  places  which  belonged  to  his  circuit :  but  it  was  so 
circumstanced  that  only  two  out  of  the  four  preachers,  could 
serve  it  during  the  quarter:  and  when  the  next  quarter  came, 
the  other  two  took  their  places.  As  Mr.  C.  came  late  into  the 
circuit,  as  has  been  already  noticed,  it  did  not  come  to  his  turn 
to  visit  that  place  before  the  spring  of  1783.  The  congrega- 
tions here  were  very  small,  and  there  were  only  two  or  three 
who  had  the  name  of  Methodists  in  the  place.  Previously  to 
his  coming,  the  report  was  very  general  that,  "  a  little  boy  was 
to  preach  in  the  Methodists'  chapel  at  such  a  time :"  and  all 
the  young  men  and  women  in  the  place  were  determined  to 
hear  him.  He  came,  and  the  place  long  before  the  time,  was 
crowded  with  young  persons  of  both  sexes,  from  fourteen  to 
twenty-five ;  very  few  elderly  persons  could  get  in,  the  house 
being  filled  before  they  came.  He  preached,  the  attention  was 
deep  and  solemn,  and  though  crowded,  the  place  was  as  still  as 
death.  After  he  preached  he  gave  out  that  very  affecting  hymn, 
now  strangely  left  out  of  the  general  Hymn  book, — 

Vain,  delusive  world,  adieu, 

With  all  thy  creature  good  ! 
Only  Jesus  I  pursue, 

Who  bought  me  with  his  blood. 
All  thy  pleasures  I  forego, 

And  trample  on  thy  wealth  and  pride ; 
Only  Jesus  will  I  know, 

And  Jesus  crucified. 

The  fine  voices  of  this  young  company  produced  great  effec? 
in  the  singing. — As  each  verse  ended  with  the  two  last  lines 
above,  when  he  sung  the  last,  he  stopped,  and  spoke  to  this 
effect;— "  My  dear  young  friends,  you  have  joined  with  me 
heartily,  and  1  dare  say,  sincerely,  in  singing  this  fine  hymn. 
You  know  in  whose  presence  we  have  been  conducting  this 
solemn  service  ;— the  eyes  of  God,  of  angels,  and  perhaps  of 
devils,  have  been  upon  us.  And  what  have  we  been  doing? 
We  have  been  promising  in  the  sight  of  all  these,  and  of  each 
other,  that  we  will  renounce  a  vain  delusive  world — its  plea- 
sures, pomp,  and  pride,  and  seek  our  happiness  in  God  alone, 
and  expect  it  through  Him  who  shed  his  blood  for  us.  And 
is  not  this  the  same  to  which  we  have  been  long  previously 
bound  by  our  baptismal  vow.  Have  we  not,  when  we  were 
baptized,  promised,  either  by  ourselves,  or  sureties,  (which 
promise  if  made  in  the  latter  way,  we  acknowledge  we  are 
bound  to  perform  when  we  come  of  age,)  To  renounce  the 
devil  and  all  hisworks,  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  this  wicked 
world,  and  all.  the  sinful  lusts  of  the  flesh: — that  we  will  keep 
God's  holy  will  and  commandments,  and.  walk  in  the  same  all 
the  days  of  our  life!    This  baptismal  promise  which  you 


.SUCCESS  OH  HIS  riHST  CIRCUIT. 


155 


have  so  often  repeated  from  your  catechism,  is  precisely  the 
same  with  that  contained  in  the  fine  and  affecting  hymn  which 
you  have  been  now  singing.  Now,  shall  we  promise  and  not 
perform  1  Shall  we  vow,  and  not  keep  our  vow?  God  has 
heard  what  we  have  sung  and  said,  and  it  is  registered  in 
heaven.  What  then  do  you  purpose  to  do  ?  Will  you  con- 
tinue to  live  to  the  world,  and  forget  that  you  owe  your  being 
to  God,  and  have  immortal  souls  which  must  spend  an  eternity 
in  heaven  or  hell,  according  to  the  state  they  are  found  in 
when  they  leave  this  world  ?  We  have  no  time  to  spare, 
scarcely  any  to  deliberate  in :  the  judge  is  at  the  door,  and 
death  is  not  far  behind.  I  have  tried  both  lives :  and  find  that 
a  religious  life  has  an  infinite  preference  beyond  the  other. 
Let  us  therefore  heartily  forsake  sin,  vanity,  and  folly,  and 
seek  God  by  earnest  prayer,  nor  rest  till  we  find  He  has 
blotted  out  all  our  sins,  purified  our  hearts,  and  filled  us  with 
peace  and  happiness.  If  we  seek  earnestly  and  seek  through 
Christ  Jesus,  we  cannot  be  unsuccessful."  He  then  prayed, 
and  many  were  deeply  affected.  That  night  and  the  next 
morning,  thirteen  persons,  young  men  and  women,  came  to 
him  earnestly  enquiring  what  they  should  do  to  be  saved.* 
A  religious  concern  became  general  throughout  the  village 
and  neighbourhood ;  many  young  persons  sought  and  found 
redemption  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  The  old  people  seeing 
the  earnestness,  and  consistent  walk  of  the  young,  began  to 
reflect  upon  their  ways :  many  were  deeply  awakened,  and 
those  who  had  got  into  a  cold  or  lukewarm  state,  began  to 
arise  and  shake  themselves  from  'he  dust,  and  the  revival  of 
pure  and  undefiled  religion  became  general.  Thus  God 
shewed  him  that  the  very  circumstance  (his  youth)  which  he 
thought  most  against  him  and  his  usefulness,  became  a  prin- 
cipal means  in  his  Divine  hand  of  his  greatest  ministerial 
success.  Methodism  in  Road  continued  to  prosper  during 
the  whole  time  he  was  in  that  circuit ;  and  when  he  visited 
them  several  years  after,  he  found  it  still  in  a  flourishing 
state. 

In  several  other  parts  of  this  circuit,  God  blessed  his  work, 
and  he  and  his  brethren  lived  in  peace  and  unity,  and  drew 
cordially  in  the  same  yoke;  and  the  people  were  everywhere 
satisfied  with  their  teachers.  Many  who  had  long  rested  on 
their  lees,  were  stirred  up  afresh ;  and  not  a  few  were  encou- 
raged to  seek  and  find  full  redemption  in  the  blood  of  the  cross. 
It  was  on  the  whole,  a  year  of  prosperity,  and  Mr.  C.'s  heart 
grew  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ. 

He  endeavoured  to  cultivate  his  mind  also  in  useful  know- 
*  Fifty  years  after  this  event,  one  of  these  (then)  young  persons 
came  and  called  upon  Dr.  Clarke,  when  lie  preached  at  Frome  for  the 
last  time.    See.  Appendix  at  the  end  of  the  Work.    By  the  Rev. 
J.  B.  B.  Clarke. 


156  PROGRESS  IN,  AND  CHECK  TO,  Hid  STLDUOcS. 

ledge  ;  but  a  circumstance  took  place  which,  through  his  in- 
experience, had  nearly  proved  ruinous  to  the  little  knowledge 
which  he  had  already  acquired,  and  would  utterly  have  pre- 
vented all  future  accessions  to  his  little  stock.  This  circum- 
stance requires  distinct  relation.  He  had  not  been  long  in  this 
circuit  before  lie  received  the  Hebrew  Grammar,  which,  as 
we  have  already  seen,  he  subscribed  for  at  Kingswood.  He 
entered  heartily  on  the  study  of  this  sacred  language,  from  this 
work;  which,  though  it  promised  much,  yet  really  did  perform 
a  good  deal.  The  copious  lessons  precluded- for  a  time,  the 
necessity  of  purchasing  a  Hebrew  Bible :  and  the  analysis 
accompanying  each  lesson,  soon  led  him  into  the  nature  of 
the  Hebrew  language ;  these  are  carefully  compiled,  and  are, 
by  far,  the  best  part  of  that  grammar.  The  other  parts  being 
confused,  meagre,  and  difficult,  though  its  pious  author  had 
thought,  (for  he  inserted  it  in  his  title  page.)  that  the  whole 
was  digested  in  so  easy  a  way,  that  a  child,  of  seven  years 
of  age  might  arrive,  without  any  other  kind  of  help,  at  a 
competent  knowledge  of  the  sacred  language  ;  a  saying,  which 
is  in  every  part  incorrect  and  exceptionable.  The  lessons  and 
analytical,  parts  are  good,  the  rest  of  the  work  is  nearly  good 
for  nothing. 

In  his  Latin,  Greek,  and  French  he  could  make  little  im- 
provement, having  to  travel  several  miles  every  day ;  and 
preach,  on  an  average,  thirty  days  in  every  month,  and  to  at- 
tend to  many  things  that  belonged  to  the  work  of  a  Methodist 
preacher.  That  he  might  not  lose  the  whole  time  which  he 
was  obliged  to  employ  in  riding,  he  accustomed  himself  to 
read  on  horseback ;  and  this  he  followed  through  the  summer, 
and  in  the  clear  weather  in  general.  In  this  way  he  read 
through  the  four  volumes  of  Mr.  Wesley's  History  of  the 
Church,  carefully  abridged  trom  Mosheim,s  larger  work.  In 
abridging  from  voluminous  writers,  Mr.  Wesley  was  emi- 
nently skilful ;  and  this  is  one  of  the  best  things  he  has  done 
of  this  kind :  but  the  original  work  by  Mosheim,  is  the  best 
Church  History  published  before  or  since.  The  practice  of 
reading  on  horseback  is  both  dangerous,  because  of  the  acci- 
dents to  which  one  is  exposed  on  the  road ;  and  injurious  to 
the  sight,  as  the  muscles  of  the  eye  are  brought  into  an  un- 
natural state  of  contraction,  in  order  to  counteract  the  too 
great  brilliancy  of  the  light.  Yet  what  could  he  do,  who  had 
so  much  to  learn,  so  often  to  preach,  and  was  every  day  on 
horseback  ?  When  he  came  in  the  evening  to  his  place  of 
residence  for  the  night,  he  found  no  means  of  improvement, 
and  seldom  any  place  in  which  he  could  either  conveniently 
study  or  pray.  But  the  circumstance  that  had  nearly  put  an 
end  to  his  studies,  is  yet  untold.  In  the  preachers'  room  at 
Motcomb,  near  Shaftsbury,  observing  a  Latin  sentence  writ- 
ten on  the  wall  in  pencil,  relative  to  the  vicissitudes  of  life, 


PROGKtdo  IN.  AND  CHECK  10,  Hid  STUDIES.  157 

he  wrote  under  it  the  following  lines  from  Virgil,  corrobora- 
tive of  the  sentiment ; — 

 Quo  fata  trahunt  retrakuntque,  scipiamur. — 

Per  varios  casus,  per  tot  discrimina  rerum, 
Tendimus  in  Coelum. 

Eneid.  lib.  v.  709.    Ib.  lib.  1.  204,  5. 

The  next  preacher  that  followed  him  in  this  place,  seeing 
the  above  lines,  which  he  could  not  understand,  nor  see  the 
relation  they  bore  to  those  previously  written,  wrote  under 
them  the  following  words  : — 

■'  Did  you  write  the  above 
to  show  us  you  could  write  Latin  "! 
For  shame !    Do  send  pride 
to  hell,  from  whence  it  came. 
Oh,  young  man,  improve  your 
time,  eternity's  at  hand." 

They  who  knew  the  writer,  would  at  once  recollect,  on  read- 
ing these  words,  the  story  of  Diogenes  and  Plato.  The  latter 
giving  an  entertainment  to  some  friends  of  Dionysius,  Di- 
ogenes being  present,  trampled  with  disdain  on  some  rich 
carpeting,  saying,  Tlaru  tjiv  Tharuvos  Ktvo<mov6iav,  I  trample  under 
foot  Plato's  vain  glory.  To  whom  Plato  replied,  'CW,  <5  Aioye- 

vtf,  rov  tvQov  Stafatvcts,  donuv  pri  rcrvipuoBat ,  How  proud  tllOU  art,  O 

Diogenes,  when  thou  supposest  that  thou  art  condemning 

pride!    Mr.  was  naturally  a  proud  man,  though  born  in 

the  humblest  department  of  life :  and  it  required  all  his  grace 
to  enable  him  to  act  with  even  the  humble  exterior  which 
became  a  Christian  minister ;  he  could  ill  brook  an  equal :  and 
could  worse  tolerate  a  superior.  The  words,  contemptible  as 
they  may  appear,  the  circumstance  considered  which  gave 
them  birth,  had  a  very  unfriendly  effect  on  the  inexperienced 
simple  heart  of  Mr.  C,  he  was  thrown  into  confusion :  he 
knew  not  how  to  appear  before  the  family  who  had  a  whole 
week  to  con  over  this  reproachful  effusion  of  a  professed 
brother:  in  a  moment  of  strong  temptation,  he  fell  on  his 
knees  in  the  midst  of  the  room,  and  solemnly  promised  to  God 
that  he  would  never  more  meddle  with  Greek  or  Latin  as 
long  as  he  lived.  As  to  Hebrew,  he  had  not  yet  begun, 
properly  speaking,  to  study  it ;  and  therefore  it  could  not  be 
included  in  the  proscription:  but  the  vow  had  a  paralyzing 
effect  upon  this,  as  well  as  on  all  his  other  studies :  and  gene- 
rally prevented  the  cultivation  of  his  mind.  He  saw  that 
learning  might  engender  pride:  and  it  was  too  plain  that, 
instead  of  provoking  emulation,  it  would  only  to  him,  excite 

envy.    When  he  next  saw  Mr.  he  expostulated  with  him, 

for  exposing  in  this  most  unkind  manner,  what  he  deemed  to 
be  wrong, — t:  Why,"  said  he,  "did  you  not  tell  me  privately 
of  it,  or  send  the  reproof  in  a  note  ?"    /  thought  what  I  did 
14 


las 


HASH  VOWS. 


was  the  best  method  to  cure  you,  replied  Mr.   .    Mr.  C. 

then  told  him  what  uncomfortable  feelings  it  had  produced  in 
him ;  and  how  he  had  vowed  to  study  literature  no  more ! 
The  other  applauded  his  teachableness,  and  godly  diligence, 
and  assured  him  that  he  had  never  known  any  of  the  learned 
preachers  who  was  not  a  conceited  coxcomb,  &c.  &c. 

On  what  slight  circumstances  do  the  principal  events  of 
man's  life  depend!  The  mind  of  Mr.  C.  was  at  this  time 
ductile  in  the  extreme,  in  reference  to  every  thing  in  Chris- 
tian experience  and  practice.  He  trembled  at  the  thought  of 
sin.  He  ever  carried  about  with  him  not  only  a  tender,  but  a 
scrupulous  and  sore  conscience.  He  walked  continually  as  in 
the  sight  of  God  ;  and  constantly  felt  that  awful  truth,  Thou 
God  secst  me  !  To  him,  therefore,  it  was  easy  to  make  any 
sacrifice  in  his  power :  and  this  now  made,  had  nearly  ruined 
all  his  learned  researches  and  scientific  pursuits  for  ever  ;  and 
added  one  more  to  the  already  too  ample  company  of  the 
slothful  servants,  and  religious  loungers,  in  the  Lord's  inhe- 
ritance. What  a  blessing  it  is  for  young  tender  minds  to  be 
preserved  from  the  management  of  ignorance  and  sloth ;  and 
to  get  under  the  direction  of  prudence  and  discretion  ! 

That  such  a  vow  as  that  now  made  by  Mr.  C.  could  not  be 
acceptable  in  the  sight  of  the  Father  of  Lights,  may  be  easily 
seen:  but  it  was  sincere,  and  made  in  such  circumstances,  as 
appeared  to  him  to  make  it  perfectly  and  lastingly  binding. 
He  now  threw  by,  yet  not  without  regret,  his  Greek  Testament, 
endeavoured  to  forget  all  that  he  had  learned ;  and  laboured 
to  tear  every  thing  of  the  kind  for  ever  from  his  heart !  This  sa- 
crifice was  made,  about  the  end  of  the  year  1782  and  was  most 
religiously  observed  till  about  the  year  1786,  to  his  irreparable 
loss.  That  this  vow  was  afterwards,  on  strong  evidence  of 
its  impropriety,  rescinded,  the  Reader  will  at  once  conjecture, 
who  knows  any  thing  of  the  general  history  of  Mr.  Clarke, 
and  it  is  time  to  inform  him  how  this  change  took  place.  It 
has  already  been  stated  that  Mr.  C.  when  very  young,  had 
learned  a  little  French;  as  this  was  not  included  in  the  pro- 
scription already  mentioned,  he  found  himself  at.  liberty  to 
read  a  portion  of  that  language  when  it  came  in  his  way. 
About  1786,  he  met  with  a  piece  of  no  ordinary  merit,  entitled, 
Discours  sur  V Eloquence  de  la,  Chaire,  A  Discourse  on  Pul- 
pit Eloquence ;  by  the  Abbe  Maury,  then  Preacher  in  Ordi- 
nary to  Lewis  XVI. ;  since,  Cardinal  Maury,  and  but  lately 
deceased.  Mr.  C.  was  much  struck  with  the  account  there 
given  of  the  preaching  and  success  of  one  of  the  French 
Missionaries,  of  the  name  of  Bridaine,  and  particularly  with 
an  extract  of  a  Sermon,  which  the  Abbe  heard  him  preach  in 
the  Church  of  St.  Sulpice  in  Paris,  in  the  year  1751*  This 

*  When  Bridaine  came  to  Paris,  and  it  was  known  that  he  was  to 
preach  in  the  Church  of  St.  Sulpice,  great  numbers  of  the  highest 


RASH  VOWS. 


159 


piece  he  translated,  and  sent  to  the  Rev.  J.  Wesley,  to  be  in- 
serted, if  he  approved  of  it,  in  the  Arminian  Magazine. — 
Mr.  Wesley  kindly  received,  and  inserted  the  piece  :  and  as 
he  was  ever  as  decided  a  friend  to  learning,  as  he  was  to  re- 
ligion, both  of  which  he  illustrated  by  his  Life  and  Writings, 
he  wrote  to  Mr.  C, — "  Charging  him  to  cultivate  his  mind  as 
far  as  his  circumstances  would  allow,  and  not  to  forget  any 
thing  he  had  ever  learned."  This  was  a  word  in  season,  and, 
next  to  the  divine  oracles,  of  the  highest  authority  with  Mr. 
C.  He  began  to  reason  with  himself  thus  :  "  What  would 
he  have  me  to  do?  He  certainly  means  that  I  should  not  for- 
get the  Latin  and  Greek  which  I  have  learned  :  but  then  he 

ranks  were  attracted  by  his  fame  to  hear  him  ;  and  when  he  ascended 
the  pulpit,  seeing  bishops,  and  ecclesiastics,  and  nobles,  and  many  of 
the  most  exalted  and  wealthy  personages  in  the  realm,  all  thronging 
to  hear  him  ; — he  thus  began : — 

"  A  la  vued'un  auditoire  si  nouveau  pour  moi,  il  semble,  mes  freres, 
que  je  ne  devrois  ouvrir  la  bouche  que  pour  vous  demander  grace,  en 
faveur  d'un  pauvre  missionnaire  depourvu  de  tous  les  talens  que  vous 
exigez  quand  on  vient  vous  parler  de  votre  salut.  J'eprouve  cependant 
aujourd'hui  un  sentiment  bien  different ;  et  si  je  suis  humilie,  gardez- 
vous  de  croire  que  je  m'abaisse  aux  miserables  inquietudes  de  la  va- 
nite,  comme  si  j'etois  accoutume  a  me  precher  moi-meme.  A  Dieu 
ne  plaise  qu'un  ministre  du  ciel  pense  jamais  avoir  besoin  d'excuse 
auprcs  de  vous ;  car  qui  que  vous  soyez,  vous  n'ctes  tons  comme  moi 
que  des  pecheurs ;  e'est  devant  votre  Dieu  et  le  mien  que  je  me  sens 
presse  dans  ce  moment  de  trapper  mapoitrine:  jusqu'a  present  j'ai 
publie  les  justices  du  Tres-Haut  dans  des  temples  couverts  de 
chaume;  j'ai  preche  les  rigueurs  de  la  penitence  a  dps  infortunes  qui 
manquoient  de  pain  ;  j'ai  annonce  aux  bons  habitans  des  campagnes 
les  verites  les  plus  eftVayantes  de  ma  religion.  Q.u'ai-je  fait,  malhcu- 
reux  !  j'ai  contriste  les  pauvres,  les  meilleurs  amis  de  mon  Dieu ;  j'ai 
porte  l'epouvante  et  la  douleur  dans  ccs  ames  simples  et  fideles,  que 
j'aurois  du  plaindre  et  consoler.  C'est  ici  ou  mes  regards  ne  tombent 
que  sur  des  grands,  surdes  riches,  sur  des  oppresseurs  de  I'humanite 
souffrante,  ou  sur  des  pecheurs  auclacieux  et  endurcis ;  ah !  c'est  ici 
seulement  qu'il  falloit  faire  retentir  la  parole  sainte  dans  toule  la  force 
de  son  tonnerre ;  et  placer  avec  moi  dans  cette  chaire,  d'un  cote,  la 
mort  qui  vous  menace,  de  l'aulre,  mon  grand  Dieu  qui  vient  vous 
juger.  Je  tiens  aujourd'hui  votre  sentence  a  la  main  ;  tremble/,  done 
devant  moi,  hommes  superbes  et  dfidaigneux  qui  m'ecoutez !  La  ne- 
cessite  du  salut,  la  certitude  de  la  mort,  l'incertitude  de  cette  heure  si 
efl'royablc  pour  vous,  l'impenitence  finale,  le  jugenient  dernier,  le  petit 

nombre  des  elus,  l'enfer,  et  pardessus  tout,  l'eternite  l'eternite  ! 

Voila  les  sujets  dont  je  viens  vous  entrctenir  et  que  j'aurois  du  sans 
doute  reserver  pour  vous  seuls.  Eh  !  qu'ai-je  besoin  de  vos  suffrages, 
qui  me  damneroient  peut-etre  sans  vous  sauverl  Dieu  va  vous  emou- 
voir,  tandis  que  son  indigne  ministre  vous  parlera;  car  j'ai  acquis  une 
longue  experience  de  ses  misericordes ;  alors,  penetres  d'horreur  pour 
vos  iniquites  passees  vous  voudrez  vousjeter  entre  mes  bras  en  ver- 
sant  des  larmes  de  componction  et  de  repentir,  et  a  force  de  remords 
vous  me  trouverez  assez  eloquent.'' 


160 


RASH  VOWS. 


does  not  know,  that  by  a  solemn  vow,  I  have  abjured  the  study 
of  these  languages  for  ever.  But  was  such  avow  lawful:  is 
the  study  of  Hebrew  and  Greek,  the  languages  in  which  God 
has  ven  the  Old  and  Nexo  Testaments,  sinful  7  It  must  have 
been  laudable  in  some,  else  we  should  have  had  no  transla- 
tions. Is  it  likely  that  what  must  have  been  laudable  in  those 
who  have  translated  the  Sacred  Writings,  can  be  sinful  to 
any — especially  to  ministers  of  God's  holy  Word?  I  have 
made  the  vow  it  is  true ;  but  who  required  this  at  my  hand  ? 
What  have  I  gained  by  it  ?  1  was  told  it  was  dangerous,  and 
would  fill  me  with  pride,  and  pride  would  lead  me  to  perdition  : 

but  who  told  me  so  ?  Could  Mr.  ,  at  whose  suggestions  I 

abandoned  all  these  studies,  be  considered  a  competent  judge  : 
a  man  who  was  himself  totally  illiterate  as  it  regarded  either 
language  or  science  ?  And  what  have  I  gained  by  this  great 
sacrifice,  made  most  evidently  without  divine  authority,  and 
without  the  approbation  of  my  own  reason?  Am  I  more/iw?7(- 
ble,  more  spiritual ;  and  above  all,  have  I  been  more  useful 
than  I  should  have  been,  had  I  not  abandoned  those  languages 
in  which  the  words  of  the  Prophets,  Evangelists,  and  Apos- 
tles were  written  ?  I  fear  I  have  been  totally  in  an  error  :  and 
that  my  vow  may  rank  in  the  highest  part  of  the  catalogue  of 
rash  vows.  Allowing  even  that  my  vow  in  such  circum- 
stances, can  be  considered  in  any  respect  binding ;  which  is 
the  greater  evil,  to  keep  or  to  break  it  ? — I  should  beg  pardon 
from  God  for  having  made  it ;  and  if  it  were  sinfu^o  make 
it,  it  is  most  undoubtedly  sinful  to  keep  it." — Thus  he  reasoned, 
and  at  last  came  to  the  firm  purpose  to  be  no  longer  bound  by 
what  lie  had  neither  the  authority  of  God  nor  reason  to  make. 
He  kneeled  down  and  begged  God  to  forgive  the  rash  vow, 
and  in  mercy,  to  undo  any  obligation  which  might  remain, 
because  of  the  solemn  wanner  in  which  it  had  been  made. — 
He  arose  satisfied  that  he  had  done  wrong  in  making  it ;  and 
that  God  required  him  now,  to  cultivate  his  mind  in  even' 
possible  way,  that  he  might  be  a  workman  that  need  not  to  be 
ashamed,  rightly  dividing  the  word  of  truth.  He  felt  a  con- 
viction that  he  had  done  right,  and  such  a  satisfaction  of  mind 
as  he  did  not  find  when  he  made  that  vow ;  the  making  of 
which,  because  of  its  consequences,  {nearly  four  years'  loss 
of  time,)  he  had  ever  reason  to  deplore. 

The  charm  being  thus  broken,  Mr.  C.  had  all  his  work  to 
begin  de  novo  ;  and  was  astonished  to  find  how  much  he  had 
forgotten  of  his  school-boy  learning.  In  short  he  was  obliged 
to  begin  his  grammar  again,  and  found  it  hard  work  to  lay  a 
second  foundation,  till  practice  and  the  association  of  ideas, 
levelled  and  smoothed  the  rugged  path. 

It  has  been  often  said,  that  the  Methodists  undervalue  and 
cry  down  all  human  learning.  This  is  not  true:  there  is  no 
religious  people  in  the  land  that  value  it  more,  nor  indeed  is 


HIS  METHOD  OF  GAINING  TIME. 


161 


there  any  under  greater  obligation  to  it  than  they  are:  the 
learning  of  their  Founder  was  as  necessary,  under  God;  to  the 
revival  and  support  of  true  religion  in  the  land,  as  his  zeal 
and  piety  were.  The  great  body  of  the  Methodists  love  learn- 
ing ;  and  when  they  find  it  in  their  preachers,  associated  with 
humility  and  piety,  they  praise  God  for  the  double  benefit  and 
profit  by  both. 

In  the  course  of  this  same  year,  1782,  he  read  Mr.  Wesley's 
Letter  on  Tea  ;  when  he  had  finished  it,  he  said  :  "  There  are 
arguments  here  which  I  cannot  answer  ;  and  till  I  can  answer 
them  to  my  own  satisfaction,  I  will  neither  drink  tea  nor  cof- 
fee." He  broke  off  the  habit  from  that  hour,  never  afterwards 
sought  for  arguments  to  overturn  those  of  Mr.  Wesley,  and 
from  that  day  to  the  present,  never  once  tasted  tea  or  coffee! 
Here  is  a  perseverance  rarely  equalled :  and  to  this  he  was 
providentially  led.  He  spent  that  time  in  reading  and  study 
which  he  must  otherwise  have  spent  at  the  tea  table  :  and  by 
this,  in  the  course  of  thirty-seven  years,  he  has  saved  several 
wltole  years  of  time;  every  hour  of  which  was  devoted  to  self- 
improvement,  or  some  part  of  that  great  work  which  the  Pro- 
vidence of  God  gave  him  to  do.  For  a  short  time  after  he  left 
off  the  use  of  those  exotics,  he  took  in  the  evenings,  a  cup  of 
mitt  and  water,  or  a  cup  of  weak  infusion  of  camomile;  but 
as  he  found  that  he  gained  no  time  by  this  means,  and  the 
gaining  of  time  was  his  gTeat  object,  he  gave  that  totally  up ; 
never  tasting  any  thing  from  dinner  to  supper.  In  the  morn- 
ing he  found  it  easy  to  supply  the  place  of  tea  and  coffee,  by 
taking  milk  in  some  form  or  other  ;  or  any  other  aliment  which 
the  junior  parts  of  the  families  where  he  lodged,  were  accus- 
tomed to  take  for  their  breakfast.  In  his  Letter  to  a  Preacher, 
since  published,  he  has  adverted  strongly  to  this  circumstance. 
Mr.  Wesley  himself,  after  having  left  off  the  use  of  tea  and 
coffee  for  twelve  years,  resumed  it  and  continued  the  use  of 
these  beverages  to  his  death:  his  pupil,  A.  C,  followed  his 
councils  without  attending  to  his  practice,  as  zealously  as  ever 
the  Rechabites  did  those  of  their  founder  Jehonadab.  What 
A.  C.  has  gained  by  this  sacrifice,  has  amply  compensated  the 
cost. 

This  year,  the  Conference  was  held  in  Bristol ;  Mr.  C.  had 
no  thought  of  attending,  till  on  the  first  of  August,  a  letter 
came,  requiring  him  to  attend :  the  next  day,  Saturday,  he  set 
off,  and  reached  Bristol  the  same  day.  How  he  spent  the  next 
day,  which  was  the  Sabbath,  may  be  seen  from  the  following 
entry  in  his  Journal. 

"Sunday,  Aug.  3,  1783.  At  five  this  morning,  I  heard  a 
very  useful  sermon  from  Mr.  Mather,  at  the  chapel  Broad 
Mead,  on  Isai.  xxxv.  3,  4.  I  then  went  to  Guinea  Street  cha- 
pel, where  I  heard  Mr.  Bradbum  preach  on  Christian  perfec- 
tion, from  1  John  iv.  19.  Thi«  was.  without  exception,  the  best 
14* 


162  HE  GOES  TO  THE  METHODIST  CONFERENCE. 


sermon  I  had  ever  heard  on  the  subject.  When  this  was  ended, 
I  posted  to  the  Drawbridge,  and  heard  Mr.  Joseph  Taylor 
preach  an  excellent  and  affecting  discourse  on  Rom.  v.  21. 
This  ended,  I  returned  to  my  lodging  and  breakfasted;  and 
then,  at  ten  o'clock,  heard  Mr.  Wesley  preach  at  Broad  Mead, 
on  Acts  i.  5.  After  sermon  he,  assisted  by  Dr.  Coke?  the  Rev. 
B.  B.  Collins,  and  the  Rev.  Cornelius  Bayley,  delivered  the 
Holy  Sacrament  to  a  vast  concourse  of  people ;  which  I  also 
received  to  my  comfort.  When  dinner  was  ended,  I  heard 
the  Rev.  B.  B.  Collins  preach  at  Temple  church,  on  Mark  xvi. 
15, 16.  I  next  went  and  heard  Mr.  Wesley  in  Carolina  Court 
on  Heb.  vi.  1 ;  after  which  he  met  the  society  at  the  chapel 
Broad  Mead,  and  read  over  a  part  of  his  Journal,  relative  to 
his  late  visit  to  Holland.  To  conclude  the  whole,  I  then 
posted  to  King's  Down,  where  I  heard  Mr.  T.  Hanby  preach 
an  awakening  sermon,  on  1  Peter  iv.  18.  Thus  I  have,  in  one 
day;  by  carefully  redeeming  time,  and  buying  up  every  oppor- 
tunity, heard  seven  sermons,  three  of  which  were  delivered 
out  of  doors.  Surely  this  has  been  a  day  in  which  much  has 
been  given  me ;  and  much  will  the  Lord  require  :  O  grant 
that  I  may  be  enabled  to  render  Thee  a  good  account.  Though 
the  whole  of  the  day  has  been  spent  in  religious  exercises,  yet 
such  is  my  unprofitableness,  that  I  could  not  stand  in  the 
judgment  even  for  this  day.  But  O,  my  glorious  Saviour, 
Thou  art  still  my  High-priest  to  offer  my  most  holy  things  to 
God,  which  can  be  rendered  acceptable  to  Him  only  through 
the  sprinkling  of  Thy  blood." 

On  Wednesday,  Aug.  6th,  Mr.  Clarke  was  admitted,  into 
Full  Connexion,  after  having  travelled  only  about  eleven 
months.  Even  at  that  time,  before  it  was  determined  that 
each  preacher  should  travel  four  years  on  trial,  this  was,  per- 
haps, the  earliest  admission  that  had  ever  taken  place.  It  was 
to  him,  as  he  expresses  it  in  his  Journal,  the  most  solemn  or- 
dinance in  which  he  had  ever  engaged.  "  This  day,"  says  he, 
"  I  have  promised  much  before  God  and  His  people :  may 
I  ever  be  found  true  to  my  engagements.  In  particular,  I  have 
solemnly  promised,  to  devote  my  whole  strength  to  the  work 
of  God,  and  never  to  be  triflingly  employed  one  moment. — 
Lord,  I  fear  much  that  I  shall  not  be  found  faithful.  But 
Thou  hast  said,  my  grace  shall  be  sufficient  for  thee  !  Even  so, 
let  it  be,  Lord  Jesus  !" 

When  preachers  on  trial  are  admitted  into  Full  Connexion 
with  the  body  of  the  Methodist  preachers ; — among  many  im- 
portant questions  put  to  them  is  the  following,  Are  you  in 
debt?  To  this  the  most  satisfactory  answer  must  be  given. — 
Through  rather  a  whimsical  incident,  this  question  was  likely 
to  have  deeply  puzzled  and  nonplused  Mr.  Clarke.  Walking 
in  the  street  that  morning  with  another  preacher,  a  poor  man 


CONSCIENTIOUS  SCRUPULOSITY. 


163 


asked  a  halfpenny.  Mr.  C.  had  none,  but  borrowed  one  from 
the  preacher  who  was  walking  with  him.  That  preacher  hap- 
pening to  go  out  of  town,  he  could  not  see  him  during  the  day 
to  repay  this  small  sum.  When  he  stood  up  with  the  others 
he  knew  not  what  to  say,  when  the  question,  Are  you  in  debt? 
should  be  proposed :  he  thought,  ;!  If  I  say  /  am  in  debt,  they 
will  ask  me  How  much  ?  when  I  say  I  owe  one  halfpenny, 
they  will  naturally  suppose  me  lo  be  a  fool.  If  I  say  /  am 
not  in  debt,  this  will  be  a  lie;  for  1  owe  one  half-penny,  and 
am  as  truly  under  the  obligation  to  pay,  as  if  the  sum  were 
twenty  pounds,  and  while  I  owe  that  I  cannot,  consistently 
with  eternal  truth,  say,  /  am  not  in  debt."  He  was  now  most 
completely  within  the  horns  of  a  dilemma  ;  and  which  to  take 
he  knew  not,  and  the  question  being  put  to  him  before  he  could 
make  up  his  mind — "Mr.  Clarke,  are  you  in  debt?"  he  dis- 
solved the  difficulty  in  a  moment,  by  answering — Not  one 
penny.  Thus  both  his  credit  and  his  conscience  were  saved. 
The  Reader  may  smile  at  all  this,  but  the  situation  to  him 
was,  for  some  hours,  very  embarrassing. 

At  this  Conference  he  was  appointed  for  Norwich,  to 
which  he  set  out  on  Monday,  11th,  on  horseback,  and  reached 
that  city  on  the  evening  of  Saturday,  August  16th,  1783. 

It  may  be  necessary  to  say  here,  a  few  words  relative  to  the 
state  of  his  own  mind,  in  this  first  year  of  his  itinerant  labours. 
During  the  little  more  than  ten  months  he  was  in  this  circuit, 
he  preached  506  times,  beside  giving  a  great  number  of-pub- 
lic  exhortations,  and  paying  innumerable  visits  to  the  different 
families  of  the  societies  where  he  resided  even  for  a  day  and 
night,  to  pray  with  them  and  inquire  into  the  state  of  their 
souls.  He  preached  also  at  five  o'clock  every  morning,  win- 
ter and  summer,  in  the  different  towns  in  the  circuit,  such  as 
Bradford,  Trowbridge,  Frome,  Devizes,  Coalford,  Shepton 
Mallet,  Shaftsbury,  &c.  &c. 

His  mind  was  variously  and  powerfully  exercised :  he  kept 
the  strictest  watch  over  his  heart;  and  scrutinized  daily  and 
hourly,  the  walk  of  every  affection,  passion,  and  appetite  :  and 
was  so  severe  a  censor  of  his  own  conduct,  that  he  frequently 
condemned  himself,  in  matters  which  were  either  innocent  in 
themselves,  or  perfectly  indifferent.  His  almost  incessant  cry 
was  after  holiness: — to  be  cleansed  from  all  sin.  and  filed 
with  God,  he  saw  to  be  the  high  calling  of  the  Gospel,  and 
the  birthright  of  every  son  and  daughter  of  God.  He  could 
not  be  satisfied  while  he  felt  one  temper  or  disposition  that 
was  not  in  harmony  with  the  will  and  word  of"  God.  His 
mind  was  full  of  light,  and  his  conscience  was  tender ;  and 
he  was  ever  either  walking  with  God,  or  following  hard  after 
Him.  His  Journals  mark  scarcely  anything  but  the  state  of 
his  soul,  his  spiritual  conflicts,  resolutions,  consolations,  and 
depressions.    He  tithed  even  mint  and  cummin,  and  never 


[64 


ON  RELIGIOUS  JOURNALS. 


left  unregarded  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law.  The  people 
he  was  incessantly  urging  to  holiness  of  heart  and  life.  Re- 
pentance ; — justification  hy  faith  in  trie  sacrificial  death  of 
Christ ; — the  witness  of  the  Spirit  in  the  consciences  of  true 
believers; — Christian  perfection,  or  the  purification  of  the 
soul  from  all  sin  in  this  life  ; — and  the  necessity  of  universal 
outward  holiness  ;  were  the  doctrines  which  he  constantly 
pressed  on  the  attention  and  hearts  of  his  hearers  ;  and  under 
this  preaching  many  were  turned  to  the  Lord  ;  and  many  built 
up  on  their  most  holy  faith. 

His  Journals,  which  he  kept  carefully  for  several  years,  bear 
ample  proof  of  these  things  :  but  I  have  judged  it  better  to 
give  this  general  account,  than  to  make  extracts  where  there 
can  be  so  little  variety  of  matter,  and  where  the  same  things, 
and  things  synonymous,  are  perpetually  occurring. 

From  the  unfortunate  day  already  mentioned,  on  which  he 
sacrificed  by  vow  all  farther  prosecution  of  learning,  be  never 
attempted  to  mingle  observations  on  men  or  manners  in  his 
Diaries, — the  whole  was  merely  spiritual,  and  necessarily 
monotonous.  This  became  at  last  so  heavy  to  himself,  that 
he  discontinued  all  regular  entries  of  this  kind,  about  the  end 
of  Aug.  1785:  occasional  remarks  in  his  interleaved  Ephe- 
meris,  relative  to  his  progress  in  the  knowledge  of  God  and 
of  his  own  heart,  are  all  that  remain  of  this  species  of  writing. 
When  he  has  been  asked  whether  he  would  not  publish  his 
Journal,  or  leave  it  to  be  published,  he  has  answered  :  I  do 
not  intend  it :  the  experience  of  all  religious  people  is  nearly 
alike  ;  in  the  main  entirely  so.  When  you  have  read  the 
Journal  of  one  pious  man  of  common  sense,  you  have  read  a 
thousand.  After  the  first  it  is  only  the  change  of  names, 
times,  and  places ;  all  the  rest  as  to  piety,  is  alike."* 

The  intelligent  reader  will  scarcely  dissent  from  this  opi- 
nion, who  has  read  many  religious  Journals. 

THE  NORWICH  CIRCUIT,  1783—4. 

On  Saturday,  Aug.  16,  1783,  Mr.  Clarke  arrived  in  the  city 
of  Norwich,  the  head  place  of  the  circuit,  and  found  one  of 
the  late  preachers  ill  of  a  fever:  and  although  he  was  obliged 
to  sleep  in  the  same  room,  the  smell  of  which  was  pestiferous, 
yet  through  God's  mercy  he  did  not  catch  the  disorder.  The 
circuit  extended  into  different  parts  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  and 
included  the  following  places  ;  Norwich,  Yarmouth,  Lowe- 
stoffe,  Loddon,  Heckingham,  North  Cove,  Teasborough,  Strat- 
ton,   Hardwick,  Thurlton,  Haddiscoe,  Beccles,  Wheatacre, 

*  I  knew  my  father's  mind  concerning  his  Journals;  and  therefore, 
since  his  decease,  every  word  of  all  of  them  has  been  committed  to  the 

flames. 


STATIONED  AT  NORWICH. 


I6S 


Lopham,  Diss,  Whartham,  Dickleborough,  Winfarthing,  Bar- 
ford,  Hempnel,  Besthorp,  and  Thume.  In  all,  twenty-two 
places.  Each  preacher  continued  one  week  in  the  city,  and 
then  spent  three  weeks  in  the  country;  and  to  go  round  the 
places  in  the  month  was  a  journey  of  above  260  miles. 
The  preachers  who  labored  with  him  were,  Richard  What- 
coat,  John  Ingham,  and  William  Adamson.  The  former 
was  a  very  holy  man  of  God,  a  good  and  sound  preacher, 
but  not  of' splendid  abilities.  He  was  diligent  and  orderly 
in  his  work ;  and  a  fine  example  of  practical  piety  in  all  his  con- 
duct. The  year  after,  at  the  earnest  request  of  Dr.  Coke,  he 
went  over  to  America,  and  there  became  one  of  the  bishops  of 
the  Methodist-episcopal  church; — pursued  among  the  transat- 
lantic brethren,  the  same  noiseless  tenor  of  his  way,  seeking 
only  the  establishment  of  the  kingdom  of  God  both  in  him- 
self and  others  :  and  died  in  the  faith,  universally  esteemed. 

Mr.  I.  was  a  good  natured  man,  of  no  learning,  and  of  but 
slender  abilities ;  yet  he  had  a  sort  of  popular  address  that 
helped  him  to  make  his  way  in  the  circuit.  He  professed  to 
cure  many  disorders:  and  his  prescriptions  were  made  up  of 
o  pennyworth  of  oil  of  leeks,  a  pennyworth  of  oil  of  swallows, 
&c.  &c,  all  as  equally  efficacious  as  they  were  attainable. 
But  although  the  apothecaries  and  druggists  had  no  such 
medicaments,  they  gave  the  poor  people  something  under  those 
names,  that,  would  do  as  well,  and  thus  but  little  harm  was 
done.  He  was  himself  a  most  disgusting  slave  to  tobacco ; 
and  never  preached  without  a  quid  in  his  mouth !  The  Me- 
thodist connexion  have  wisely  proscribed  both  quackery  and 
tobacco;  as,  in  all  their  forms,  they  are  disgraceful  to  a  Chris- 
tian minister.  They  are  also  dangerous  :  the  former  leads  to 
many  snares  ;  especially  in  reference  to  females  :  the  latter  is 
so  closely  associated  with  intemperance  in  drinking,  that  few 
of  its  votaries  escape.  Thus  poor  Ingham  fell  the  following 
year  ;  and  was  heard  of  in  the  church  of  God  no  more. 

W.  Adamson  was  a  young  man,  very  sincere,  had  got  the 
rudiments  of  a  classical  education ;  but  was  of  such  an  un- 
steady, fickle  mind,  that  he  excelled  in  nothing.    The  next 


In  everv  respect  the  circuit  was  low.  There  was  no  place 
in  it,  in  which  religion  flourished,  either  among  the  Methodists 
or  others :  lukewarmness  and  Antinomianism  generally  pre- 
vailed; and  if  any  thing  prospered,  it  was  Calvinism  as  a 
system,  many  putting  much  of  their  trust  for  salvation  in  a 
belief  of  its  doctrines.  Among  many  in  the  city  of  Norwich, 
this  was  carried  to  the  wildest  extremes.  There  were  even 
in  the  Methodists'  society  several  local  preachers,  that  were 
Calvinists  and  leaders  of  classes :  and,  in  consequence,  the 
people  were  unhinged  and  unsteady,  and  made  no  progress 
either  in  piety  or  practical  godliness  ;  for  they  were  continu- 


166 


STATE  OP  METHODISM  IN  NORWICH. 


ally  halting  between  two  opi?iions.  Yet  there  were  many 
good  and  sensible  people  in  the  society,  whose  life  and  con 
versation  adorned  the  doctrine  of  God  their  Saviour.  And  in 
the  course  of  the  year,  religion  revived  a  little,  principally 
through  the  preaching  of  the  doctrine  of  entire  sanctification2 
or  complete  redemption  from  all  sin  in  this  life.  Several 
saw  this  to  be  their  privilege,  and  sought  it  with  their  whole 
heart. 

In  Norwich  the  society  was  very  poor :  a  family  lived  in  the 
preachers'  house,  and  provided  for  the  preachers  at  so  much  per 
meal,  and  the  bill  was  brought  in  to  the  stewards'  and  lead- 
ers meeting  at  the  end  of  the  week,  and  discharged :  and  he 
was  most  certainly  considered  the  best  preacher  who  ate  the 
fewest  meals,  because  his  bills  were  the  smallest.  In  this 
respect  Mr.  Clarke  excelled :  he  took  only  a  little  milk  to  his 
breakfast,  drank  no  tea  or  coffee ;  and  took  nothing  in  the 
evening.  Hence  his  bills  were  very  small.  Sometimes,  but 
not  often,  the  preachers  were  invited  out,  and  this  also  contri- 
buted to  lessen  the  expense. 

One  ludicrous  circumstance,  relative  to  an  invitation  to 
breakfast,  I  may  here  mention.  After  Mr.  Clarke  had  preach- 
ed one  morning  at  5  o'clock,  a  young  woman  of  the  society 
came  to  him  and  said  ;  "  Sir,  will  you  do  me  the  favour  to 
breakfast  with  me  this  morning  1  I  breakfast  always  at  eight 
o'clock."    I  thank  you,  said  he,  but  I  know  not  where  you  live. 

"O,"  said  she,  "I  live  in  Street,  near  Maudlin  gate,  No. 

— ."  /  do  not  know  the  place.  "  Well,  but  you  cannot  well 
miss  it,  after  the  directions  I  shall  give  you."  Very  well. 
"You  must  cross  Cherry  Lane,  and  go  on  to  the  Quakers' 
preaching-house  : — do  you  know  it  ?"  Yes.  "  Well  then, 
leave  the  Quakers'  preaching-house  on  the  left  hand,  and  go 
down  that  lane  till  you  come  to  the  bottom ;  and  then  on  your 
right  hand  you  will  see  a  door  that  appears  to  lead  into  a  gar- 
den, with  an  inscription  over  it:  can  you  read?"  Yes,  a  lit- 
tle. "  Well  then,  the  board  will  direct  you  so  and  so,  and  yovt 
cannot  then  mis*."  Thank  you :  /shall,  endeavour  to  be  with 
you  at  the  time  appointed.  "  I  went,"  said  Mr.  C,  "and  be- 
cause I  had  the  happiness  of  being  able  to  read,  I  found  out 
my  way !" 

This  little  anecdote  will  serve  to  shew,  that  in  those  times 
the  Methodists  could  not  expect  much  from  their  ministers ; 
as  it  appears  they  thought  it  possible,  they  might  have  some 
that  could  not  read  their  Bible!  Howsoever  illiterate  they 
may  have  been  deemed,  it  may  be  safely  asserted,  no  instance 
is  on  record  of  an  itinerant  preacher  among  the  Methodists 
being  unable  to  read  his  Bible.  Many,  it  is  true,  of  the  ori- 
ginal preachers,  could  read  but  indifferently  :  and  I  have  known 
several  of  the  clergy  who  did  not  excel  even  in  this:  and  I 
have  known  one  who,  in  reading  2  Kings  xix.  made  three 


ANECDOTES. 


16? 


Unsuccessful  trfals  to  pronodnce  the  word  Sennacherib, — Sen- 
nacrib,  Sennacherub,  and  terminated  with  Snatchcrab  !  But 
such  swallows  make  no  summers  ;  and  should  never  be  pro- 
duced as  instances  from  which  the  general  character  of  a  class 
or  body  of  men  should  be  deduced.  The  time  is  long  past 
since  men  in  any  department  of  life  have  been  prized  on  ac- 
count of  their  ignorance. 

I  shall  give  another  anecdote,  which,  with  the  intelligent 
Reader,  will  not  place  Mr.  C.  in  a  disadvantageous  point  of 
view. 

The  coals  in  Norwich  are  remarkably  bad,  and  it  is  a  com- 
mon custom  to  blow  the  fire  almost  continually,  in  order  to 
keep  it  alive,  or  to  perform  the  operations  of  cookery.  Hence 
a  pair  of  bellows,  the  general  bane  of  fires,  is  a  useful  appen- 
dage to  a  Norwich  kitchen,  and  parlour  also.  When  Mr.  C. 
entered  on  his  lodging  in  the  preachers'  house  in  this  city,  he 
found  the  bellows  worn  out,  so  that  they  would  held  no  wind ; 
and  the  fire-riddle,  or  instrument  by  which  they  sifted  the  ashes 
and  returned  all  the  cinders  to  the  grate,  worn  beyond  use. 
The  poker  also  was  burnt  to  the  stump.  He  said  to  Mrs.  P., 
the  housekeeper,  "Why  do  you  not  get  new  instruments  here, 
or  else  get  these  repaired  ?" — "  O  dear,  sir,  we  cannot  do  either, 
the  society  is  so  poor." — "Is  it  so?  well,  something  may  be 
done.  I  cannot  mend  the  poker,  for  that  requires  a  forge  ; 
but  I  think  I  can  mend  the  bellows  and  the  riddle." — "  Can 
you?" — "Yes,  if  you  can  furnish  me  with  a  little  leather,  no 
matter,  old  or  new,  and  an  old  tin  kettle  or  saucepan.  Take 
these  pence,  and  go  and  bring  me  a  hundred  of  twopenny 
tacks."  An  old  pair  of  leathern  small  clothes,  furnished  him 
with  materials  for  mending  the  bellows;  which  he  soon  made 
air  tight :  and  an  old  saucepan,  which  he  unsoldered  by  hold- 
ing over  the  fire,  furnished  tin  to  mend  the  riddle.  He  bor- 
rowed a  stab  awl  and  a  hammer,  from  a  shoemaker,  and  get- 
ting an  old  pair  of  scissors,  he  cut  out  the  tin,  punched  in  it 
the  necessary  holes,  used  the  tacks  as  rivets,  having  a  flat 
iron  for  an  anvil,  which  he  held  between  his  knees ;  and  thus 
soon  restored  this  necessary  instrument  to  effective  usefulness. 
Thus,  at  the  expense  of  twopence  to  himself,  he  made  these 
two  instruments  serviceable :  and  the  stewards,  seeing  this, 
mustered  courage  to  get  the  poker  new  bitted  ! 

In  this  city  he  frequently  cleaned  and  blacked  his  own 
shoes,  and  those  of  his  brethren,  as  there  was  no  person  re- 
gularly employed  to  do  this  service.  He  found  no  difficulty 
in  acting  according  to  the  advice  given  to  preachers  when  ad- 
mitted into  the  Methodist  connexion:  "  Do  not  affect  the  gen- 
tleman ;  and  be  not  above  cleaning  your  own  shoes,  or  those 
of  others,  if  need  be." 

There  was  but  one  horse  in  the  circuit  for  the  four  preach- 
ers, which,  when  the  preacher  who  had  it  out  in  the  circuit 


PRIMITIVE  METHODISM. 


came  into  town,  he  who  had  been  the  resident  preacher  the 
week  before,  immediately  mounted,  and  rode  off  to  the  coun- 
try, in  order  to  save  expense.  Thus  it  must  frequently  hap- 
pen that  while  another  was  riding  his  horse,  Mr.  C.  was  obliged 
to  walk  the  circuit,  and  carry  his  saddle-bags  on  his  back,  that 
contained  his  linen  and  a  few  books.  It  was  curious  to  see 
him  set  off  from  the  chapel  in  Cherry  Lane,  his  bags  tied  upon 
his  back,  and  thus  walk  through  the  city  of  Norwich,  and  re- 
turn in  the  same  way,  several  days  after,  covered  with  dust  or 
mud,  and  greatly  fatigued.  But  this  was  far  from  being  the 
worst:  except  at  a  very  few  places,  the  accommodations  were 
exceedingly  bad.  Sometimes  in  the  severest  weeks  of  one 
of  the  most  severe  winters,  he  was  obliged  to  lodge  in  a  loft, 
where,  through  the  floor  he  could  see  every  thing  below ;  and 
sometimes  in  an  out-house,  where  perhaps,  for  seven  years  to- 
gether, there  had  not  been  a  spark  of  fire  lighted.  The  win- 
ter of  1783  was  exceedingly  severe,  and  the  cold  intense ; — 
even  warm  water  in  his  room,  has  been  frozen  in  a  few  se- 
conds !  He  has  often  been  obliged  to  get  into  bed  with  a  part 
of  his  clothes  on ;  strip  them  off  by  degrees  as  the  bed  got 
warmed ;  and  then  lie  in  the  same  position,  without  attempt- 
ing to  move  his  limbs,  every  unoccupied  place  in  the  bed, 
which  his  legs  or  other  parts  touched,  producing  the  same 
sensation,  as  if  the  parts  had  been  brought  into  contact  with 
red  hot  iron.  It  was  here  that  he  learned  that  the  extreme  of 
cold  produced  on  the  living  muscle,  precisely  the  same  sensa- 
tion as  the  extreme  of  heat ;  and  this  rendered  credible  what 
a  friend  of  his,  who  had  travelled  in  Russia,  told  him,  that  if 
he  laid  hold  on  any  iron  exposed  to  the  open  air,  he  could  not 
separate  his  hand  from  it  but  at  the  expense  of  that  part  of  the 
skin  and  flesh  which  came  in  contact  with  the  metal. 

In  several  places  that  year  the  snow  lay  from  ten  to  fifteen 
feet  deep.  It  began  to  fall  Dec.  25,  and  was  not  all  gone  be- 
fore the  middle  of  the  following  April.  The  frost  was  so  in- 
tense that  succeeded,  that  he  could  seldom  keep  his  saddle 
five  minutes  together,  but  must  alight  and  walk  and  nm,  to 
prevent  his  feet  from  being  frost-bitten.  In  the  poor  cabins 
where  he  lodged,  and  where  there  was  no  other  kind  of  fire 
than  what  was  produced  by  a  sort  of  dried  turf,  almost  entirely 
red  earth,  that  never  emitted  any  flame ;  and  where  the  clo- 
thing on  the  bed  was  very  light,  he  suffered  much  ;  going  to  bed 
cold,  lying  all  night  cold,  and  rising  cold.  He  has  sometimes 
carried  with  him  a  parcel  of  coarse  brown  paper,  and  with  a 
hammer  and  chisel,  payed  up  some  of  the  larger  crevices  un- 
der the  bed,  to  prevent  him  from  total  starvation  !  Add  to  all 
this,  very  homely  food,  and  sometimes  but  little  of  it;  which 
the  poor  people  most  readily  shared  with  him  who  came  to 
their  houses  and  their  hearts  with  the  Gospel  of  their  salva- 
tion; and  who.  except  for  such  preaching,  must  have  been  al- 


1'KDimvE  METHODISM. 


169 


most  totally  destitute  of  that  instruction,  without  which  there 
was  little  hope  of  their  salvation.  It  was  by  these  means, 
and  often  in  such  circumstances,  through  many  privations, 
much  pain  and  suffering,  the  Methodist  preachers  spread  scrip- 
tural Christianity  throughout  the  land;  and  became  the  means 
of  ameliorating  the  moral  and  civil  condition  of  the  great  mass 
of  its  comparatively  poor,  and  almost  totally  neglected  inha- 
bitants: i.  e.  of  those  who  are  emphatically  said  to  constitute 
its  lower  orders.  To  such  preaching  the  nation  and  the  state 
are  under  endless  obligation. 

Ye  ministers,  who  have  entered  this  vineyard  in  the  halcyon 
days  of  the  Church,  think  of  what  your  predecessors  have  suf- 
fered, to  make  plain  paths  for  your  feet  to  walk  in.  And  see 
that  ye  give  all  diligence  to  maintain  that  ground  which  they 
have  gained  by  inches,  and  at  the  hazard  and  nearly  the  ex- 
pense of  their  lives.  Talk  not  of  your  hardships  and  priva- 
tions ;  for  of  these  ye  can  know  comparatively  nothing. 

This  was  a  year  of  severe  labour  and  suffering,  yet  of  but 
little  apparent  fruit;  though  a  good  seed  was  sown,  which  in 
more  auspicious  times  sprang  up  to  the  glory  of  God.  The 
American  war  was  just  terminated ;  and  shortly  after,  peace 
began  to  flourish,  and  confidence  was  restored.  Mr.  C.  preach- 
ed in  several  new  places,  and  among  the  rest  in  Diss,  then, 
very  unpromising,  but  now  the  head  of  a  circuit.  He  has 
gone  frequently  there,  put  up  his  horse  at  an  Inn,  preached, 
paid  for  his  horse,  and  rode  several  miles  to  preach  at  some 
other  place,  without  any  soul  offering  him  even  a  morsel  of 
bread :  and  such  was  the  state  of  his  finances  that  both  he  and 
his  horse  could  not  eat,  and  the  poor  brute  must  not  fast.  What 
could  three  pounds  per  quarter  do,  besides  providing  clothes, 
a  few  books,  and  all  necessaries  of  life,  the  mere  articles  of 
food  excepted ;  which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  furnished  at  the 
different  places  where  he  preached.  These  twelve  pounds  per 
ami.  out  of  which  each  preacher  paid  a  guinea  for  the  support 
of  superannuated  preachers  and  preachers'  widows,  was  the 
xchole  salary  of  a  Methodist  itinerant  preacher. 

In  this  circuit  he  laboured  much  to  improve  his  mind ;  and 
also  to  grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  himself  and 
God.  In  Lowestoffe  he  met  with  some  very  kind  friends : 
among  the  chief  of  these  were  the  late  Mr.  Thos.  Tripp,  and 
Mr.  Thos.  Mallet.  The  former  let  him  have  the  use  of  a 
small  but  valuable  Library,  whenever  he  came  to  the  place ; 
and  the  latter  lent  him  some  valuable  papers  on  various  pas- 
sages of  .Scripture,  which  were  of  very  great  use  to  him.  In- 
deed he  was  entertained  at  the  houses  of  these  men,  as  at  the 
house  of  a  parent :  and  of  their  kindness  he  ever  spoke  in  the 
highest  terms. 

I  find  the  following  entries  in  Mr.  Clarke's  Journal  of  this 
month  :— 

15 


EXTRACTS  PROM  HIS  JOURNAL. 


"Mond.  Oct.  20.  Mr.  Wesley  is  just  now  paying  his  an- 
nual visit  to  Norwich ;  and  I  have  had  the  high  gratification 
of  hearing  him  preach  from  Psal.  cxvi.  12.  'What  shall  I  ren- 
der unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits  towards  me  ?  I  will  take 
the  cup  of  salvation,  and  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord.' 

"  In  treating  this  subject  he  1st. '  took  a  view  of  the  principal 
benefits  which  God  has  conferred  upon  mankind  in  general, 
and  believers  in  particular,  from  their  creation  even  to  the 
smallest  means  of  grace,  of  which  they  are  made  partakers.' 

"  2.  '  He  shewed  what  we  should  render  unto  God  for  these 
benefits:  viz.  to  take  the  cup  of  salvation.  The  term  cup,  he 
shewed  was  a  Hebraism  signifying  plenty,  e.  g.  the  cup  of 
sorrow — of  joy — of  trembling  ;  and  means  plenty  or  abundance 
of  sorrow,  joy,  trembling,  &c.  So  by  the  cup  of  salvation,  we 
are  to  understand  plenty  or  abundance  of  salvation:  and  this 
consists  in  justification,  and  entire  sanctification.'  O  Lord, 
how  merciful  and  incomparably  indulgent  art  thou  to  man- 
kind !  seeing  all  thou  askest  from  them  in  return  for  former 
benefits,  is  that  they  would  receive  the  abundance  of  those 
which  thou  hast  further  promised  : — 

The  sole  return  thy  love  requires 
Is,  that  we  ask  for  more. 

"  Tues.  21.  Mr.  W.  preached  again  on  Matt.  xix.  6.  '  What 
God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asunder.'  On  these 
words  he  observed  in  general,  that  men  were  prone  to  sepa- 
rate what  God  had  joined ;  and  thus  bring  ruin  on  themselves. 
In  particular,  1st.  God  hath  joined  piety  and  morality,  but 
many  separate  these :  for,  leaving  piety  to  God  out  of  the 
question,  they  think  an  observance  of  external  duties  suffi- 
cient ;  and  thus  remain  without  genuine  hope,  and  without 
God  in  the  world. 

"  2dly.  He  shewed  that  the  same  authority  had  joined  the 
love  of  God,  and  the  love  of  man  together:  but  in  this  also 
many  were  wofully  deficient;  pretending  to  love  God,  while 
hating  their  brother ;  and  pretending  true  friendship  to  man, 
while  enemies  to  God. 

"3dly.  He  hath  also  joined  faith  and  works  together  ;  so 
that  in  the  sight  and  purpose  of  God,  one  cannot  exist  without 
the  other.  But  many  are  contending  for  faith,  while  living 
in  sin:  and  others  contend  for  good  works,  while  without 
faith  in  the  great  Redeemer  of  mankind. 

"4.  God  has  joined  the  end  and  the  means  together:  but 
many  expect  the  accomplishment  of  the  end,  without  using 
the  means;  they  expect  pardon,  holiness,  and  heaven,  without 
prayer,  repentance,  faith,  and  obedience.  This  he  proved  was 
sheer  enthusiasm ,— to  expect  the  accomplishment  of  any  end 
without  using  the  means  which  lead  to  that  end.  On  this 
point,  he  dwelt  particularly,  and  brought  the  charge  of  enthu- 


EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  JOURNAL. 


171 


siasm  home  against  the  major  part  of  the  different  religious 
professions  in  the  nation.'' 

Mr.  Clarke  had  the  privilege  of  hearing  Mr.  Wesley  preach 
twice  each  day  during  the  remaining  part  of  this  week ;  the 
following  were  the  texts : — 

Tliey  despised  the  pleasant  land;  they  believed  not  his 
word,  Psal.  cvi.  24. 

But  we  preach  Christ  crucified,  1  Cor.  i.  23. 

Wherefore,  he  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost,  Heb.  vii.  25. 

For  we  look  not  at  the  things  that  are  seen,  2  Cor.  iv.  18. 

Put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God,  Eph.  vi.  11.  &c. 

Except  your  righteousness  exceed  the  righteousness,  $c. 
Matt.  v.  20. 

Ye  shall  be  baptized,  with  the  Holy  Glutst,  <£c.  Acts,  i.  5. 

The  kingdom,  of  God  is  at  hand,  Mark,  i.  15. 

Of  most  of  these  Sermons  he  has  preserved  either  the  skele- 
tons, or  the  leading  thoughts. 

When  he  parted  with  Mr.  W.  on  Sat.  25,  he  made  the  fol- 
lowing entry  in  his  Journal : — "Here,  I  took  my  farewell  of 
this  precious  servant  of  God.  O,  Father,  let  thy  angels  attend 
him  wheresoever  he  goes: — let  the  energetic  power  of  thy 
Spirit  accompany  the  words  he  shall  speak,  and  apply  them  to 
the  hearts  of  all  that  shall  hear  them  ;  and  may  they  be  the 
means  of  conviction,  conversion,  comfort,  and  strength,  to  all, 
as  they  may  severally  require.  And  let  me  also  abundantly 
profit  by  the  things  I  have  heard  from  him." 

At  this  time  he  had  some  private  conversation  with  Mr.  W. 
concerning  the  state  of  his  soul,  from  which  he  derived  much 
edification  and  strength. 


Before  we  proceed  farther  with  this  narrative,  it  may  not  be 
improper  to  relate  the  following  anecdotes,  which  must  be  in- 
troduced by  a  few  observations. 

Norfolk  appeared  to  Mr.  Clarke  to  be  the  most  ungodly 
county  he  had  ever  yet  visited.  He  found  it  generally  irreli- 
gious. Except  among  a  very  few  religious  people  theSabbalh- 
day  was  universally  disregarded.  Buying  and  selling  were 
considered  neither  unseemly  nor  sinful;  and  on  that  day  the 
sports  of  the  field,  particularly  fowling,  were  general. — Multi- 
tudes even  of  those  called  religious  people,  bought  and  sold 
without  any  remorse.  To  find  a  man  saved  from  this  sin  was 
a  very  rare  thing  indeed.  Against  this  horrible  profanation, 
Mr.  C.  lifted  up  a  strong  and  steady  voice  :  visited  the  members 
of  his  own  society  in  different  places,  from  house  to  house,  who 
were  guilty  of  this  sin  ;  pointed  out  the  evil  of  their  conduct, 
and  exacted  the  promise  of  immediate  reformation. 


172 


.SABBATH-BREAK1NU. 


At  a  place  called  Teasborough,  he  lodged  and  preached  at 
the  house  of  a  miller,  Mr.  J.  Nichols ;  from  him  he  received 
the  following  account  of  his  conversion  from  the  sin  of  Sab- 
bath-breaking.— "  After  I  heard  the  Methodists  preach,  and 
was  convinced  of  sin,  I  continued  to  work  my  mills,  and  sell 
meal  and  flour  on  the  Lord's-day  as  usual.  But  in  this  practice 
I  soon  became  very  uneasy,  being  continually  followed  by 
those  words,  '  Remember  that  thou  keep  holy  the  Sabbath-day-' 
I  at  last  determined,  whatever  might  be  the  consequence,  to 
give  it  up.  I  accordingly  ordered  my  men  to  stop  the  mills  on 
the  Lord's-day,  as  I  was  determined  to  grind  no  more :  and  I 
informed  my  customers,  that  I  should  serve  them  no  longer  on 
the  Sabbath,  and  hoped  that  they  would  make  it  convenient  to 
come  on  the  Saturday  evening.  Some  affected  to  pity  me ; 
others  said  they  would  go  to  other  shops :  but  scarcely  any 
supposed  that  I  would  be  steady  to  my  resolutions.  The  next 
Sabbath  they  came  as  usual,  and  every  one  was  refused. — 
Their  displeasure  was  general,  and  they  went  to  other  millers  ; 
of  whom  there  were  several  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  next 
Saturday,  however,  many  of  them  came  and  were  served  ;  and 
in  a  short  time  all,  or  as  many  as  I  had  before,  returned  ;  and 
now,  far  from  being  poorer,  on  account  of  this  sacrifice,  which 
many  said  would  be  my  ruin,  I  am  this  day  at  least  one  thou- 
sandpouuds  richer  than  I  was  then." 

Here,  then,  is  a  plain  confutation,  founded  on  a  very  strong 
fact,  of  that  wretched  objection  :  "  If  I  do  not  sell  on  the  Sab- 
bath I  shall  lose  my  customers,  and  so  be  reduced  to  poverty." 
No. — Such  persons  do  not  make  the  trial,  therefore,  they  can- 
not tell  how  it  might  be  with  them ;  and  their  objections  are 
not  to  be  regarded,  as  they  are  founded  only  on  conjecture  and 
uncertainty.  At  all  events  the  thing  should  be  abandoned, 
for  it  is  a  sin  against  God,  and  the  order  of  society. 

Mr.  N.  farther  said,  that  this  practice  became  at  last  so 
oppressive  to  his  mind,  that  he  was  obliged  to  leave  his  own 
house  on  the  Lord's-day,  and  walk  in  the  fields,  that  he  might 
neither  see  nor  hear  his  mills  at  work  ;  nor  witness  the  sinful 
traffic  that  was  carried  on  in  his  house.  To  this  general 
neglect  of  the  sabbath,  Mr.  C.  attributed  the  small  progress 
which  religion  made  in  this  county.  Suffolk,  so  far  as  he 
knew  it,  was  very  little  better. 

The  irreligion  of  this  county  farther  appeared  in  a  general 
hatred  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  In  former  days,  persecution 
had  raged  in  an  uncommon  degree  ;  and  although  that  had  iu 
some  measure  subsided,  yet  there  was  still  a  decided  hostility 
to  religion.  The  preachers  scarcely  ever  preached  in  Norwich 
on  the  Sabbath  evening,  without  having  less  or  more  disturb- 
ance, or  a  mob  at  the  chapel  doors.  Mr.  Wesley  himself  was 
not  better  treated.  Once  when  he  visited  Norwich,  it  was  in 
company  with  Mr.  John  Hamp.ion,  senior.    This  man  was 


MR.  JOHN  HAMPSON. 


173 


well  known  in  the  Methodist  connexion^  being  many  years  an 


proportioned,  and  of  the  strongest  muscular  powers :  he  was 
also  a  man  of  strong  understanding,  and  much  grandeur  of 
mind.— When  Mr.  W.  had  finished  his  discourse  and  was 
coming  out  of  the  chapel,  they  found  the  whole  lane  filled 
with  a  furious  mob,  who  began  to  close  in  on  Mr.  W.  Mr. 
Hampson  immediately  pushed  forward,  and  from  the  attitude 
he  assumed,  Mr.  W.  supposed,  he  was  about  to  enter  into 
conflict -with  the  mob  ;  he  therefore  addressed  him  with  great 
earnestness,  and  said,  "  Pray,  Mr.  Hampson,  do  not  use  any 
violence."  To  which  Mr.  H.  replied,  with  a  terrible  voice 
like  the  bursting  roll  of  distant  thunder,  "Let  me  alone,  Sir; 
if  God  has  not  given  you  an  arm  to  quell  this  mob,  he  has 
given  me  one  :  and  the  first  man  that  molests  you  here,  I  will 
lay  him  for  DEAD  V— Death  itself  seemed  to  speak  in  the 
last  word — it  was  pronounced  in  a  tone  the  most  terrific.  The 
mob  heard,  looked  at  the  man,  and  were  appalled — there  was 
a  universal  rush,  who  should  get  off  soonest:  and  in  a  very 
short  time  the  lane  was  emptied,  and  the  mob  was  dissipated 
like  the  thin  air.  Mr.  Hampson  had  no  need  to  let  any  man 
feel  even  the  weight  of  his  arm. — For  such  times  as  these,  God 
has  made  such  men. 

I  shall  mention  one  other  anecdote  of  this  most  powerful 
man. — In  the  year  1788,  the  Methodists'  Conference  was  held 
in  London,  at  the  great  Chapel,  City  Road.  Mr.  Clarke  was 
coming  down  the  road,  and  a  little  before  him  Mr.  George 
Holder,  one  of  the  preachers,  and  his  wife ;  it  was  near  the 
blank  wall  of  Bunhill  Burying  Ground  ; — a  hackney  coachman 
drove  so  carelessly  as  nearly  to  crush  Mr.  and  Mrs.  H.  to  death, 
against  the  wall :  they  were  however  but  little  hurt.  Mr. 
Hampson  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the  way  and  did  not  see 
the  danger  till  it  was  past. — On  being  informed  of  it,  (thecoach- 
man  was  then  driving  down  the  road,)  in  strong  agitation, 
he  addressed  Mr.  Holder — "What,  and  he  was  near  crushing 
you  and  your  wife  to  death  against  the  wall  !  Why,  Sir,  did 
you  not  take  the  rascal's  coach  by  the  wheel  and  turn  it  over  !" 
He  spake  as  he  felt  he  could  have  done — a  thing  which  not 
one  in  a  million  of  men  could  have  performed  except  himself. 
Poor  Holder  could  not  have  lifted  the  nave  of  one  of  the 
wheels,  much  less  the  whole  coach  ! 

I  find  the  following  entry  in  his  Journal,  under  the  date  of 
Sunday,  January  4,  1784,  which  is  too  important  to  be  passed 
by  unnoticed. 

Mr.  J.  H.,  who  had  been  master  of  Kingswood  school,  and 
several  years  a  travelling  preacher,  had  retired  in  the  preceding 
year,  and  became  resident  in  Norwich.  He  was  a  kind  and 
affable  man,  but  had  unhappily  drunk  in  the  doctrines  of 
Baron  Swedenborgh.    On  a  conversation  that  passed  between 


itinerant  preacher.    He  was  a  man 


15' 


174 


EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  JOURNAL. 


them  this  day,  on  the  subject  of  the  Trinity,  Mr.  C.  was  a 
good  deal  perplexed,  and  writes  as  follows. 

"  I  was  a  good  deal  distressed  in  my  mind  to-day,  by  con- 
versing with  a  preacher  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  and 
some  other  points.  Many,  said  he,  are  greatly  puzzled  with 
the  mystery  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity:  but  there  is  in 
truth,  no  mystery  in  it,  if  we  leave  out  the  unscriptural  word 
person.  There  is  a  Trinity;  but  it  is  not  a  trinity  of  persons; 
but,  what  is  called  God  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  is 
only  the  Great  God  acting  under  three  different  characters. — 
He  added  several  things  more  to  the  same  effect ;  and  espe- 
cially against  what  he  called  the  unscriptural  and  absurd  doc- 
trine of  three  persons  in  the  Godhead.  Against  this  doctrine 
Mr.  C.  gave  the  following  reasons.  'This  appears  to  me  ab- 
surd, as  there  are  a  multitude  of  characters  under  which  God 
acts :  if  he  is  to  be  designated  from  such  characters,  as  to  his 
Godhead,  this  Godhead  might  be  a*  well  called  a  Denity,  a 
Quadra gintenily,  yea,  a  Centenity,  as  well  as  a  Trinity:  as 
God  acts  under  ten,  forty,  yea,  a  hundred,  different  characters 
in  reference  to  man.  Besides,  that  there  is  a  Trinity  of  persons, 
in  the  most  proper  sense  of  the  word,  is  proved  by  what  hap- 
pened at  the  Baptism  of  our  Lord,  (Matt.  iii.  16,  17:)  where 
we  find  that  he,  the  Son,  was  baptized,  the  Holy  Ghost  in  a 
bodily  form  like  a  dove,  lighted  upon  him,  and  a  voice  from 
God  the  Father,  was  heard  out  of  heaven,  declaring  that  this 
was  his  beloved  Son.  Here,  it  is  most  evident,  there  were 
three  distinct  persons,  occupying  three  distinct  places,  and  not 
one  God  acting  under  three  distinct  characters :  this  argument 
is  most  undoubtedly  unanswerable.  Again,  we  find  two  dis- 
tinct persons  worshipped  by  the  Angels  in  heaven :  for  there 
they  worship  God  and  the  Lamb:  not  God  under  the  charac- 
ter of  a  Lamb.  Again,  we  are  told  to  worship  the  Son}  even 
as  we  worship  the  Father:  now,  if  we  believe  that  it  is  one 
person  acting  under  different  characters;  and  we  are  com- 
manded to  worship  the  Son,  that  is,  one  of  these  characters; 
then  this  is  not  worshipping  God,  but  one  of  the  characters 
under  which  he  acts,  and  this  would  be  flat  idolatry?  were  it  not 
nonsense  ;  which,  well  for  the  sentiment,  is  neutralized  by  this 
absurdity.  On  this  mode  of  explanation,  this  part  of  the  doc- 
trine of  Baron  Swedenborgh  must  for  ever  stand  seK-^onfuted.' 

"On  this  same  day,  Sunday,  a  dreadful  judgment  of  God 
fell  on  some  Sabbath-breakers.  Three  young  lads,  one  of 
them  son  to  the  man  with  whom  I  lodged,  went  out  in  the 
morning,  on  a  shooting  party,  as  is  the  general  custom  in 
this  irreligious  county.  They  came  to  a  hedge,  and  one 
got  over  ;  the  other,  who  held  the  gun,  reached  it  through  the 
hedge  with  its  butt  end  foremost,  to  him  who  had  just  got  over  ; 
the  third  was  behind  him  who  carried  the  gun.    Some  of  the 


EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  JOURNAL. 


175 


branches  caught  the  trigger  as  he  was  pushing  the  gun  through 
the  hedge,  and  the  gun  went  off.  The  lad  who  held  the  gun 
received  no  damage,  for  the  muzzle  was  through  under  his 
arm,  while  striving  to  push  the  gun  through  the  hedge.  When 
the  gun  went  off,  he  suddenly  turned  to  the  lad  behind  him, 
and  said,  Are  you  shot?  The  other  replied,  /  believe  I  am. 
The  shot  had  torn  away  a  part  of  the  abdomen,  and  the  intes- 
tines were  issuing  at  the  wound !  The  lad  who  held  the  gun 
seeing  this,  dropped  it  and  ran  away  to  a  pond  that  was  at 
hand,  and  plunged  in,  with  the  intention  to  drown  himself: 
but  another  party  coming  up,  who  were  out  on  the  same  un- 
holy business,  dragged  him  out.  As  soon  as  he  came  to  him- 
self, and  got  out  of  their  hands,  he  desperately  jumped  in  a 
second  time — and  afterwards  a  third  time :  but  he  was  rescued 
and  taken  to  his  master's  house.  When  there,  he  made  an 
attempt  to  cut  his  own  throat  with  his  knife.  The  lad  who 
was  shot,  expired  in  about  an  hour :  he  was  nineteen  years  of 
age.  Behold  here  the  goodness  and  severity  of  God  !  Towards 
him  who  fell,  severity,  but  to  the  others  goodness,  would  they 
lay  it  to  heart,  and  call  upon  God  for  mercy,  that  they  might 
be  saved  from  their  sins,  and  from  future  punishment.  The 
lad  who  held  the  gun  by  which  the  other  was  shot,  being  in  a 
house  (about  eighteen  days  before  this  accident  took  place) 
where  I  was  writing  the  names  of  the  members  of  the  society 
upon  the  quarterly  tickets,  took  up  one  of  them  into  his  hand, 
looked  on  it  and  held  it  for  a  considerable  time :  the  verse 
which  was  upon  the  ticket,  was  this,  Remember  the  Sabbath- 
day  to  keep  it  holy.  Here  was  a  sufficient  warning ;  and  had 
he  attended  to  it,  he  had  not  been  the  cause  of  this  catastrophe. 
How  evident  will  it  appear  at  the  day  of  judgment,  that  God 
is  clear  of  the  blood  of  all  men !  who  by  various  methods  ap- 
prises them  of  the  danger  they  are  in,  and  the  ruin  to  which 
they  are  exposed  by  their  sin.  God  spcaketh  once,  yea,  twice, 
but  men  regard  it  not." 

While  on  this  circuit,  Mr.  Clarke  began  to  read  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's Philosophy.  To  subjects  of  this  kind  his  heart  had  ever 
a  strong  propensity.  On  this  point  I  find  the  following  reflec- 
tions inserted,  April  the  14th,  1784,  in  his  Journal. 

"  How  do  the  unerring  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God,  appear 
in  all  the  parts  of  the  creation !  How  admirably  well  has  he 
adjusted  all  the  parts  to  answer  their  respective  ends  !  And  is 
it  not  most  evident  that  he  has  intended  happiness  for  every 
being  capable  of  it?  and  particularly  for  man,  favoured  man, 
for  whom  all  the  rest  appear  to  have  been  brought  into  exist- 
ence. See  how  the  faculties  of  his  soul,  and  the  regular  adjust- 
ment of  all  the  parts  of  his  body,  proclaim  at  once  the  wisdom 
and  benevolence  of  his  Creator !  Hence  ye  unconditional  re- 
probarian  notions ;.  ye  imputation  of  folly  and  sin  to  the  Most 


176 


EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  JOURNAL. 


High,  which  teach  that  Infinite  Wisdom  and  Love  produced 
myriads  of  such  beings  as  man,  to  be  abandoned  irrecoverably 
to  eternal  flames,  merely  to  display  the  sovereignty  of  the 
Creator !  From  whence  ye  have  originated  return,  ye  God- 
dishonouring  principles  !  Surely  ye  have  derived  your  origin 
from  him  who  is  the  implacable  enemy  of  God  and  man  !  He 
who  can  advocate  them,  if  he  be  in  human  form,  must  have 
the  heart  of  a  Hyrcanian  tiger. 

"  Every  Christian  should  study  philosophy  ;  as  from  it  he 
will  more  evidently  discover: — 1.  That  he  who  is  so  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made,  so  marvellously  preserved,  and  so 
bountifully  fed,  should  give  up  unreservedly,  his  all  to  God, 
and  devote  the  powers  which  he  has  received  to  the  service  of 
the  Creator.  2.  When  atheistical  notions  would  intrude,  a 
few  reflections  on  the  manifold  wisdom  displayed  in  the  crea- 
tion, may  be  the  means  of  breaking  the  subtle  snare  of  a  de- 
signing foe.  And,  3.  by  the  study  of  nature,  under  grace,  the 
soul  becomes  more  enlarged,  and  is  capable  of  bearing  a  more 
extensive,  deeper,  and  better  defined  image  of  the  divine  per- 
fections." 

In  this  circuit  Mr.  C.  heard  of  some  celebrated  female 
preachers,  and  heentered  it  with  considerable  prejudice  against 
this  kind  of  ministry.  In  one  part  of  the  circuit,  Thurlton,  one 
of  the  most  famous  of  these  dwelt,  Miss  Mary  Sewell.  On  his 
first  coming  to  the  house,  he  questioned  her  concerning  her 
call,  &c.  And  she  modestly  answered,  by  referring  him  to 
the  places  where  she  had  preached  in  the  circuit ;  and  wished 
him  to  inquire  among  the  people  whether  any  good  had  been 
done. — He  did  so,  on  his  next  visit  to  those  parts,  and  heard  of 
numbers  who  had  been  awakened  under  her  ministry,  and  with 
several  of  these  he  conversed,  and  found  their  experience  in  di- 
vine things,  scriptural  and  solid.  He  thought  then,  this  is 
God's  work,  and  if  he  choose  to  convert  men  by  employing 
such  means,  who  am  I  that  I  should  criticise  the  ways  of  God  ! 
On  the  28th  of  April,  1784,  he  had  the  opportunity  of  hearing 
Miss  Sewel  preach  ;  her  text  was,  Eph.  ii.  8.  By  grace  ye  are 
saved  through  faith.  On  which  I  find  the  following  entry  in 
his  Journal. — 

"I  have  this  morning  heard  Miss  Sewell  preach;  she  has 
a  good  talent  for  exhortation,  and  her  words  spring  from  a  heart 
that  evidently  feels  deep  concern  for  the  souls  of  the  people ; 
and,  consequently,  her  hearers  are  interested  and  affected.  I 
have  formerly  been  no  friend  to  female  preaching;  but  my  sen- 
timents are  a  little  altered.  If  God  give  to  a  holy  woman,  a 
gift  for  exhortation  and  reproof,  I  see  no  reason  why  it  should 
not  be  used.  This  woman's  preaching  has  done  much  good  ; 
und  fruits  of  it  may  be  found  copiously,  in  different  places  in 


ON  FKMALE  PHF.ACH1NG. 


in 


the  circuit.  1  can  therefore  adopt  the  saying  of  a  shrewd  man, 
who  having  heard  her  preach,  and  being  asked  his  opinion  of 
the  lawfulness  of  it,  answered,  '  An  ass  reproved  Balaam,  and 
a  cock  reproved  Peter,  and  why  may  not  a  woman  reprove  sin  !' 

"  Such  women  should  be  pat  terns  of  all  piety,  of  unblameable 
conversation,  correct  and  useful  in  their /amities,  and  furnished 
to  every  good  work.  This  certainly  is  the  character  of  Miss 
Sewell;  may  she  ever  maintain  it." 

And  she  did  maintain  it,  but  she  died  soon  after,  as  she  had 
lived,  in  the  faith  and  consolations  of  the  Gospel. 

Shorly  after  this,  he  had  the  opportunity  of  hearing  another  of 
these  female  preachers,  Mrs.  Proudfoot:  she  spoke  from  Exod. 
iii.  3.,  And  the  bush  was  not  burnt.    Of  her  he  remarks : — 

"  She  spoke  several  pertinent  things,  which  tended  both  to 
conviction  and  consolation  ;  and  seems  to  possess  genuine  piety. 
If  the  Lord  choose  to  work  in  this  way,  shall  my  eye  be  evil 
because  He  is  good  ?  God  forbid  !  Rather  let  me  extol  that 
God,  who,  by  contemptible  instruments,  and  the  foolishness  of 
preaching,  saves  those  who  believe  in  Jesus.  Thou,  Lord, 
choosest  to  confound  the  wisdom  of  the  world  by  foolishness, 
and  its  strength  by  weakness,  that  no  soul  may  glory  in  thy 
presence;  and  that  the  excellency  of  the  power  may  be  seen  to 
belong  to  Thee,  alone.  Had  not  this  been  the  case,  surely  / 
had  never  been  raised  up  to  call  sinners  to  repentance." 

In  this  Circuit,  he  appears  to  have  had  very  many  conflicts 
and  spiritual  exercises.  His  labours  were  severe  : — he  had 
much  riding  ;  and,  in  most  places,  as  we  have  already  seen,  un- 
comfortable lodging  and  fare.  Besides,  he  frequently  preached 
four  times  on  the  Sabbath,  and  in  the  morning  at  five  o'clock, 
winter  and  summer,  whenever  he  could  get  a  congregation  of 
sixteen  or  twenty  persons  to  hear.  He  read  a  little  Hebrew,  and 
improved  himself  a  little  in  French  ;  but  Greek  and  Latin,  as 
a  study,  we  have  already  seen,  were  proscribed.  He  had  every- 
where the  affections  of  the  people  ;  and,  although  his  labour  was 
severe,  this  served  to  hold  up  his  hands:  and  his  gift  of  preach- 
ing increased.  Good  was  done  ;  but  there  was  no  remarkable 
revival.  He  lived  in  harmony  with  his  brethren,  and  espe- 
cially with  Mr.  Whatcoat.  who  ever  acted  as  a  father  to  him. 

A  little  before  he  left  the  Circuit,  he  wrote  a  long  letter  to 
the  Rev.  William  Lemon,  Rector  of  Geytonthorpe,  which  was 
occasioned  by  a  definition  of  the  word  Methodists,  in  his 
Etymological  Dictionarrj,  just  then  published ;  which,  Mr. 
C.  gave  numerous  reasons  why  he  should  change  in  his  second 
edition  :  but  the  book  never  sold,  and  the  second  edition  is  yet 
to  come.    The  author  took  up  the  absurd  opinion  that  all,  or 


language,  were  derived 


178 


HE  SETS  OUT  FOR  CORNWALL. 


from  the  Greek  !  But,  terms  of  arts  and  sciences  excepted,  he 
might  as  well  have  maintained  that  they  came  from  the 
Tamul.  This  Letter  contains  a  full  expose  of  the  doctrines 
of  the  Methodists;  and,  for  the  time,  was  not  contemptibly 
written. 

Saturday,  Aug.  7,  he  received  a  letter  from  the  Leeds  Con- 
ference, informing  him  that  he  was  appointed  for  St.  Austell 
Circuit,  East  Cornwall ;  a  journey  of  nearly  four  hundred 
miles  from  Loddon,  where  he  then  was  :  and,  with  the  ap- 
pointment, a  guinea  was  sent  him  to  defray  his  expenses  on 
the  way  !  With  this  famous  provision,  he  set  off  on  horseback 
on  Wednesday  morning,  Aug.  11 ;  reached  Bury  St.  Edmunds 
that  night;  the  next  day,  Chelmsford ;  the  third  day  London, 
where  he  staid  till  the  16th  :  on  the  18th  he  reached  his  old  Cir- 
cuit, Bradford  ;  spent  usefully  several  days  in  Trowbridge, 
Bradford,  Shepton-Mallet,  Alhampton,  and  West-Pennard  ; 
and  at  last  reached  St.  Austell,  on  Saturday,  28th.  This  was 
a  fatiguing  journey :  he  generally  rode  between  forty  and 
lifty  miles  per  diem,;  and  as  he  had  but  a  guinea  and  a  half- 
crown  when  he  set  out,  he  seldom  had  more  than  one  slight 
meal  in  the  day,  as  the  keep  of  his  horse  recmired  nearly  all 
his  cash.  A  penny  loaf  served  for  breakfast  and  dinner:  as 
to  supper  he  was  always  obliged  to  take  something  at  the 
places  where  he  rested  for  the  night ;  but  that  was,  generally, 
a  very  light  repast.  These  were  times  in  which  no  man  from 
secular  motives,  could  take  up  the  work  of  a  travelling  preacher; 
and  times  in  which  no  man,  who  had  not  the  life  of  God  in 
his  soul,  and  an  ardent  desire  for  the  salvation  of  men,  and  a 
clear  testimony  of  his  own  call  to  the  work,  could  possibly 
continue  in  it. 

In  this  Circuit,  (Norwich,)  during  about  eleven  months,  he 
preached  450  sermons,  besides  exhortations  innumerable. 


St.  AUSTELL  CIRCUIT,  1784-5. 

On  Saturday,  Aug.  28,  he  reached  this  town,  and  found  that 
he  was  appointed  to  labour  with  Mr.  Francis  Wrigley,  (this 
was  the  second  time,)  and  Mr.  William  Church.  The  Cir- 
cuit took  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  county  of  Cornwall,  from 
the  north  to  the  south  sea,  and  included  the  following  places : 
St.  Austell,  Mevagizzey,  Tywardrealh,  Lostwithiel,  Port-Isaac, 
Camelford,  Trenarren,Trewint,  Sticker,  St.  Stephens,  St.  Ewe, 
Polglaze,  Tregony,  Polperro,  Liskeard,  Fursnuth,  Penfurder, 
Pelynt,  Meadows,  Ruthernbridge,  Trelill,  Amble.  Grampound, 
Tresmear,  St.  Tiddy,  Bodmin,  Gunwen,  Bokiddick,  Fowey, 
St.  Teath,  JVewalder,  Delabole  Quarry,  Landreath,  Broad- 
oak.  Trenarrand,  Bocaddon.  Tintagel,  Michaehtow,  St.  Min 


THE  SPREAD  OF  METHODISM- 


ver,  and  Padstovv  :  forty  places ;  besides  occasional  visits  to 
several  others,  where  preaching  was  not  as  yet  established. — 
This  Circuit  was  exceedingly  severe  ;  the  riding  constant ; 
the  roads  in  general  bad ;  and  the  accommodations,  in  most 
places,  very  indifferent.  But  the  prospect  was  widely  different, 
from  that  of  his  last  Circuit.  Here  there  was  a  general  spirit 
of  hearing ;  and  an  almost  universal  revival  of  the  work  of 
God.  Thousands  flocked  to  the  preaching :  the  chapels  would 
not  contain  the  crowds  that  came ;  and  almost  every  week  in 
the  year,  he  was  obliged  to  preach  in  the  open  air,  in  times 
when  the  rain  was  descending  from  heaven,  and  when  the 
snow  lay  deep  upon  the  earth.  But  the  prosperity  of  Me- 
thodism made  every  thing  pleasant ;  for  the  toil  in  almost 
every  place  was  compensated  by  a  blessed  ingathering  of 
sinners  to  Christ,  and  a  general  renewing  of  the  face  of  the 
country. 

In  St.  Austell,  the  heavenly  flame  broke  out  in  an  extraor- 
dinary manner;  and  great  numbers  were  there  gathered  into  the 
heavenly  fold.  Among  those  whom  Mr.  Clarke  joined  to  the 
Methodists'  Society,  was  Samuel  Drew,  then  terminating  his 
apprenticeship  to  a  shoemaker  ;  and  since  become  one  of  the 
first  metaphysicians  in  the  empire,  as  his  works  on  the  Imma- 
teriality and  Immortality  of  the  Soul  of  man,  the  Identity 
and  Resurrection  of  the  Human  Body,  and  the  Being  and. 
Attributes  of  God,  sufficiently  testify.  A  man  of  primitive 
simplicity  of  manners,  amiablcness  of  disposition,  piety  to- 
wards God,  and  benevolence  to  men,  seldom  to  be  equalled  ; 
and  for  reach  of  thought,  keenness  of  discrimination,  purity  of 
language,  and  manly  eloquence,  not  to  be  surpassed  in  any  of 
the  common  walks  of  life.  He  shortly  became  a  local  preacher 
among  the  Methodists:  and,  in  1  his  office  he  continues  to  the 
present  day.  In  short,  his  circumstances  considered,  with  the 
mode  of  his  education,  he  is  one  of  those  prodigies  of  nature 
and  grace,  which  God  rarely  exhibits  :  but  which  serve  to 
keep  up  the  connecting  link  between  those  who  are  confined 
to  nouses  of  clay,  whose  foundations  are  in  the  dust,  and 
beings  of  a  superior  order  in  those  regions  where  infirmity 
cannot  enter,  and  where  the  sunshine  of  knowledge  neither 

sutlers  diminution  nor  eclipse.  (ieorgc  Michul,  inventor  of 

ihe  patent  window  frame  ;  Joseph  Avard,  now  a  magistrate  in 
Prince  Edward's  Island;  and  several  others,  who  have  si?ce 
become  distinguished  cither  in  literature  or  mechanics  ;  were 
joined  by  Mr.  Clarke,  to  the  Methodists'  Society,  in  St.  Aus- 
tell, in  the  course  of  that  year. 

On  Saturday,  Sept.  11,  Mr.  C.  went  to  a  place  called  Trego, 

lo  Farmer  P  's,  where  there  had  been  preaching  for  some 

time,  and  a  small  society  formed,  and  where  he  was  to  preach 
that  night  and  the  next  morning.  He  had  gone  through  a 
tedious  journey,  and  by  unknown  ways,  in  order  to  get  to  this 


1 9Q 


A  ROUGH  RECEPTION. 


place ;  and  was  much  fatigued  on  his  arrival.  Only  the  good 
woman  was  within,  the  rest  being  at  harvest.  She  asked  him 
if  he  had  dined :  he  said,  no.  She  then  brought  him  the  re- 
mains of  a  cold  apple  pie,  of  the  rudest  confectio  1 ;  the  apples 
were  not  peeled,  even  the  snuff's  and  stalks  were  on  them,  and 
the  crust  was  such,  that,  though  the  apples  in  baking  shrunk 
much,  yet  the  crust  disdained  to  follow  them,  and  stood  over 
the  dish  like  a  well-built  arch,  almost  impenetrable  to  knife  or 
teeth.  He  sat  down  to  this  homely  fare,  thanked  God,  and 
took  courage.  After  a  little,  the  good  woman  brought  him 
some  cream,  saying,  "I'll  give  you  a  little  cream  to  the  pie  ; 
but  I  cannot  afford  it  to  my  own  family."  This  appeared  odd 
to  him.  He  had  nothing  beside  tliis  pie,  except  a  drink  of 
water.  He  went  and  cleaned  his  horse,  and  waited  till  the 
farmer  came  in  from  the  field ;  between  whom,  in  substance, 
passed  the  following  dialogue : —  JfVio  art  thou?  I  am  a  Me- 
thodist preacher :  my  name  is  Adam  Clarke.  And  what  is  thee 
comin  here  for?  To  preach  to  yourself,  your  family,  and  your 
neighbours.  Who  sent  thee  here?  I  received  a  plan  from  Mr. 
Wrigley,  and  your  place  stands  for  this  night  and  to-morrow 
morning.  /  expect  other  friends  to-morrow,  and  thou  shalt 
not  stay  here.  Why, — will  you  not  have  the  preaching? 
No.,  I  will  have  none  of  thy  preaching,  nor  any  of  thy  brethren. 
But  will  it  not  be  wrong  to  deprive  your  family  and  neigh- 
bours of  what  may  be  profitable  to  them,  though  you  may  not 
desire  it  1  Thee  shalt  not  stay  here :  I  will  have  no  more  Me- 
thodist preaching.  Well,  I  will  inform  Mr.  Wrigley  of  it; 
and  I  dare  say  he  will  not  send  any  more,  if  you  desire  it  not : 
but  as  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  country,  and  know  not  my  way, 
and  it  is  now  towards  evening,  I  hope  you  will  give  me  a 
night's  lodging,  and  I  will,  please  God,  set  off  to-morrow 
morning.  /  tell  thee,  thee  shalt  not  stay  here.  What,  would 
you  turn  a  stranger  out  into  a  strange  country  of  which  he 
knows  nothing,  and  so  late  in  the  evening  too  ?  Were  was 
thee  last  night  ?  I  was  at  Polperro.  Then  go  there.  It  is  out 
of  my  reach:  besides,  I  have  to  preach  at  Bodmin  to-morrow 
evening.  Then  go  to  Bodmin.  I  have  never  yet  been  there; 
am  not  expected  there  to-night ;  and  know  no  person  in  the 
place : — pray  give  me  the  shelter  of  your  roof  for  the  night. 
/  tell  thee,  thee  shalt  not  stay  here.  Are  you  really  in  earnest? 
I  am.  Well  then,  if  I  must  go,  can  you  direct  me  the  way  to 
Ruthernbridge  ;  1  was  there  on  Thursday,  and  am  sure  I  shall 
be  welcome  again.  Thee  must  inquire  the  road  to  Bodmin. 
How  far  is  Ruthernbridge  hence?  About  fifteen  or  sixteen 
miles  ;  so  thee  hudst  best  be  getting  off'.  I  will  set  off  imme- 
diately. Mr.  C.  then  went  and  put  on  his  boots,  repacked  his 
shoes,  &c,  in  his  saddle-bags,  and  went  to  the  stable  and  sad- 
dled his  horse ;  the  farmer  standing  by  and  looking  on,  but 
lending  no  assistance.  He  then  mounted  his  horse,  and  spoke 


A    DANGEH0U8  ACCIDENT. 


18J 


to  tins  effect: — "Now,  Sir,  I  am  a  stranger,  and  you  refused 
me  the  common  rites  of  hospitality  :  1  am  a  messenger  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  coming  to  you,  your  family,  and  your  neighbours, 
with  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ;  and  you 
have  refused  to  receive  me  :  for  this  you  must  account  at  the 
bar  of  God.  In  the  mean  time  I  must  act  as  my  Lord  has 
commanded  me;  and  wipe  off  against  you  even  the  dust  of 
your  floor  that  cleaves  to  the  soles  of  my  feet."  So  saying,  he 
took  his  right  foot  out  of  the  stirrup,  and  with  his  hand  wiped 
off  the  dust  from  his  sole :  he  did  the  like  to  his  left  foot,  and 
rode  slowly  off  saying,  "  Remember,  a  messenger  of  peace 
came  to  your  house  with  the  gospel  of  Jesus ;  and  you  have 
rejected  both  him  and  his  message  !"  He  went  on  his  way ; 
and  the  farmer  turned  into  his  house.  What  was  the  conse- 
quence 1  A  Methodist  preacher  was  never  afterwards  within 
his  house,  or  before  his  door.  The  little  society  that  was  there, 
went  to  other  places  ;  ruin  came  on  him,  and  his  family  be- 
came corrupt,  and  were  at  last,  finally  scattered!  and  he  died 
not  long  after. 

After  a  tedious  ride  Mr.  Clarke  got  to  Mr.  Varcoe's,  at  Ru- 
thernbridge,  where  he  was  affectionately  received  ; — preached 
out  of  doors  the  next  morning ; — and  then  rode  to  Bodmin, 
and  preached  to  a  vast  congregation  out  of  doors  in  the  even- 
ing, in  the  butter-market.  When  he  began,  the  bells  struck 
out,  and  entirely  drowned  his  voice,  so  that  his  giving  out  the 
hymn  could  not  be  heard.  When  he  was  about  half  through 
his  first  prayer,  the  bells  were  stopped,  nor  was  there  the  least 
disturbance  or  noise  till  he  had  finished  the  whole  of  his  work. 
He  then  rode  back  to  Ruthernbridge,  and  spent  a  comfortable 
evening  with  that  affectionate  family.  The  Reader  is  left  to 
his  own  reflections  concerning  the  man  who  turned  away  the 
message  of  salvation  from  his  door ;  particulars  might  be 
given  of  the  evils  that  fell  upon  that  family  ;  but.  enough  has 
been  said. 

On  Dec.  17,  of  this  year,  (1784,)  Mr.  C.  met  with  an  acci- 
dent that  had  nearly  proved  fatal  to  him.  When  he  came  out 
first  to  preach  he  had  no  horse, — a  gentleman  of  Bradford 
knowing  this,  said,  he  would  give  the  young  preacher  a  horse, 
—and  among  other  good  qualities  for  which  he  extolled  him, 
said  he  was  an  excellent  chaise  horse.  Mr.  Wesley  was  by, 
and  said,  "One  of  my  horses  troubles  us  very  much,  for  he 
often  takes  it  into  his  head  thai  he  will  not  draw.  Had  I  not 
better  take  your  horse,  Mr.  R.,  and  let  brother  Clarke  have  this 
one?  He  may  be  a  good  hack  though  a  bad  chaise-horse. 
The  change  was  made,  and  he  got  Mr.  W.'s  horse,  of  which 
he  was  not  a  little  proud,  because  it  had  been  the  property  of 
Mr.  W. ;  but  this  horse  was  the  most  dangerous  creature  he 
ever  mounted,  and  he  scarcely  ever  rode  him  a  journey  of  ten 


182 


A  DANGEROUS  ACCIDENT. 


miles,  in  which  he  did  not  fall  at  least  once :  and  by  this  liis 
life  was  often  brought  into  danger. 

His  friends  often  endeavoured  to  persuade  him  to  dispose  of 
this  dangerous  beast,  but  his  affection  for  its  quondam  owner, 
caused  him  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  every  entreaty  and  remon- 
strance ;  as  he  was  afraid  if  he  parted  with  the  beast  he  might 
fall  into  hands  that  would  not  use  him  well.  This  evening 
had  nearly  terminated  the  business  :  it  was  a  hard  frost,  and 
coming  over  the  down  above  Ruthembridge,  the  horse  fell, 
according  to  custom,  and  pitched  Mr.  C.  directly  on  his  head. 
He  lay  some  time  senseless,  but  how  long  he  could  not  tell. 
At  length,  having  come  to  himself  a  little,  be  fell  as  if  in  the 
agonies  of  death  ;  and  earnestly  recommended  his  soul  to  his 
Redeemer:  however,  he  so  far  recovered,  that  with  extreme 
diflicuky  be  reached  the  house.  As  a  congregation  attended, 
the  good  people,  not  knowing  how  much  injury  he  had  sus- 
tained, entreated  him  to  preach, — he  could  not  draw  a  full 
breath,  and  was  scarcely  able  to  stand :  however,  he  endea- 
voured to  recommend  to  them  the  salvation  of  God.  His 
pain  was  so  great  that  he  got.  no  rest  all  night :  the  next  day 
a  person  was  sent  with  him  to  stay  him  up  on  his  borse,  that 
he  might  get  to  Port  Isaac,  where  he  could  obtain  some  medi- 
cal help.  He  suffered  much  on  this  journey,  as  every  step  the 
horse  took  seemed  like  a  dart  run  through  his  body.  He  got 
at  last  to  Port  Isaac,  Dr.  Twentyman  was  sent  for,  and  bled 
him.  It  appeared  that  some  of  the  vertebra?  of  the  spine  had 
been  materially  injured.  He  was  desired  to  remain  in  the 
house  for  some  days, — this  he  could  not  consent  to  do,  as 
there  were  four  places  in  which  he  was  expected  to  preach 
the  following  day.  This  he  did  at  the  most  obvious  risk  of 
his  life  ;  but  from  this  hurt  he  did  not  wholly  recover  for  more 
than  three  years !  After  this  narrow  escape  he  was  persuaded 
to  part  with  his  horse,  which  he  changed  with  a  farmer,  who 
had  a  high  reverence  for  Mr.  W.  and  promised  to  use  the  horse 
mercifully. 

On  Saturday,  Jan.  1,  1785,  he  thus  writes,  "A  God  of  in- 
finite love  has  brought  me  to  the  beginning  of  another  year ! 
Though  I  have  often  provoked  Thee,  and  been  unfaithful  to 
Thy  grace,  yet  I  am  a  monument  of  Thy  sparing  and  for- 
bearing mercy.  The  blessings  I  have  received  from  Thee  in 
the  year  that  is  past,  may  well  astonish  me  !  Thou  hast  pros- 
pered my  labour,  and  many  souls  have  been  awakened  and 
blessed  under  my  ministry.  I  have  been  exposed  to  (he  most 
imminent  deaths,  and  yet  rescued  from  the  pit  of  corruption. 
1  have  sustained  the  most  grievous  temptations,  to  well  cir- 
cumstanced sins,  and  yet,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  stand!  I 
have  gone  through  labours  almost  above  human  strength,  and 
yet  am  supported  !    What  a  miracle  of  power  and  mercy  ! — 


A  SINGULAR  PHENOMENON. 


183 


O,  what  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits  towards 
me !    May  I  live  the  ensuing  year,  more  to  Thy  glory  than 


On  the  6th  of  this  month,  he  saw  a  wonderful  phenomenon 
while  riding  between  St.  Austell  and  Meadows.  A  body  of 
fire,  something  like  a  comet,  with  the  head  foremost,  and  the 
tail  terminating  in  a  point,  rose  out  of  the  west,  and  directing 
its  course  eastward,  traversed  nearly  a  quadrant  of  the  heavens, 
leaving  a  fiery  highway  after  it,  through  the  whole  of  its  course, 
till  it  had  entirely  expended  itself.  Its  duration  was  nearly  a 
minute;  but  after  the  fire  had  disappeared,  the  oblique?  or 
wavy  path  which  it  had  made,  was  visible  for  at  least  fifteen 
minutes.  It  seemed  as  if  it  had  left  a  deeply  indented  path  in 
the  sky.  His  reflections  on  this  phenomenon  are  pleasing, 
though  they  partake  much  of  the  state  of  his  mind,  which  was 
considerably  depressed  at  that  time:  on  this  account  they  need 
not  be  inserted. 

On  a  review  of  the  events  of  this  year,  as  they  respect  Mr. 
C,  we  find  them  presenting  to  us  one  uninterrupted  scene  ot 
prosperity.  The  spirit  of  hearing,  as  has  already  been  remarked, 
was  almost  universal, — the  congregations  very  large,  and  num- 
bers were  awakened,  converted,  and  joined  to  the  Lord.  The 
societies  were  not  only  much  increased,  but  they  were  built 
up  on  their  most  holy  faith  ;  and  the  stream  of  pure  religion 
deepened  as  it  spread.  The  vicious  and  profligate  became 
ashamed  of  their  own  conduct ;  and  those  who  did  not  yield 
to  the  influences  of  the  grace  of  God,  were  constrained  to  as- 
sume a  decent  exterior.  The  spiritual  prosperity  would  have 
been  unrivalled  had  it  not  been  for  some  antinomian  Calvinists, 
who  envious  at  the  prosperity  of  the  Methodists,  insinuated 
themselves  into  some  of  the  societies,  and  spread  their  poiscn 
among  the  people.  However,  the  bit  and  curb  of  God  weie 
put  in  their  jaws,  and  although  they  disturbed  and  in  a  mea- 
sure hindered  the  work,  they  were  not  permitted  to  prevail. — 
They  drew  some  of  the  less  fixed  of  the  society  in  St.  Austell 
with  them,  and  formed  a  party,  but  they  converted  no  sinners 
to  God. 

Mr.  C.'s  labours  were  here  continual,  and  almost  oppressive : 
besides  the  preaching  out  of  doors  in  all  weathers,  through 
spring,  summer,  autumn,  and  winter,  he  often  preached  twice, 
even  thrice,  on  week-days ;  and  three  sabbaths  out  of  four,  he 
preached  regularly  four  times  each  day  in  different  places ; 
being  obliged,  to  supply  them,  to  ride  many  miles.  This 
as  well  as  the  injury  he  received  by  the  fall  already  mentioned, 
greatly  damaged  his  constitution.  He  lost  his  appetite,  was 
prostrated  in  his  strength,  lost  his  flesh,  and  often  bled  so  co- 
piously at  the  nose,  even  in  the  pulpit,  that  his  friends  feared, 
and  not  without  reason,  for  his  life.    Besides  innumerable 


184 


MR   RICHARD  MABVN. 


public  exnortations,  he  preached  in  about  eleven  months,  568 
sennons,  and  rode  in  his  work  many  hundreds  of  miles.  He  in- 
deed gave  up  his  own  life  us  lost,  and  felt  himself  continually 
on  the  verge  of  eternity.  He  endeavored  to  walk  with  God, 
kept  up  a  severe  watch  on  his  heart  and  conduct,  and  gave  no 
quarter  to  any  thing  in  himself,  that  did  not  bear  the  stamp  of 
holiness.  His  popularity  was  great,  but  he  was  not  lifted  up 
by  it ;  he  felt  too  much  of  weakness,  ignorance,  and  imperfec- 
tion in  himself,  to  allow  the  foot  of  pride  to  come  against  him  ; 
therefore  his  popularity  promoted  his  usefulness,  and  of  it  he 
made  no  other  advantage. 

As  his  labours  were  great,  and  his  time  almost  wholly  em- 
ployed, he  could  make  little  progress  in  mental  cultivation  : 
vet  even  this  was  not  wholly  neglected.  He  read  some  trea- 
tises on  different  parts  of  Chemistry,  and  having  borrowed  the 
use  of  a  friend's  laboratory,  he  went  through  the  process  ot 
refilling  silver,  that  he  might  be  the  better  able  to  compre- 
hend the  meaning  of  those  texts  of  scripture  where  this  oper- 
ation is  referred  to.  He  read  also  several  Alchemistic  authors, 
the  perusal  of  which  was  recommended  to  him  by  a  friend 
who  was  much  devoted  to  such  studies;  and  he  also  went 
through  several  of  the  initiatory  operations  recommended  by 
professed  adepts  in  that  science.  This  study  was  the  means 
of  greatly  enlarging  his  views  in  the  operations  of  nature,  as 
he  saw  many  wonders  performed  by  chemical  agency.  If  may 
surprise  the  Reader  that  he  took  the  pains  to  read  over  Basil 
Valentine,  Geo.  Ripley,  Philalethes,  Nich.  Flammel,  Arte- 
phius,  Geber,  Paracelsus,  the  Hermetical  Triumph,  all  the 
writers  in  Ashmole's  Theatrum  Chemic.um  Britannicum,  &c. 
&e. ;  not  with  the  hope  of  finding  the  Philosopher's  stone, 
but  rerum  cognoscere  causas ;  and  to  see  nature  in  her  own 
laboratory.  This  study  served  to  divert  his  mind  from  that 
intensity  of  thought  on  other  matters,  which  before  was  prey- 
ing upon  itself. 

In  this  circuit  he  met  with  that  almost  rarest  gift  of  heaven, 
a  true  friend;  a  friend  that  loveth  at  all  times — the  Amicus 
certus,  qui  in  re  incerla.  cernitur :  this  was  Mr.  Richard  Ma- 
byn,  of  Camelford,  a  man  who  took  him  to  his  bosom,  watched 
over  him  with  the  solicitude  of  the  most  affectionate  father, 
bore  with  his  weakness,  instructed  his  ignorance,  and  helped 
him  forward  in  his  Christian  course,  by  his  prayers.  His 
house  was  his  only  home,  on  earth;  and  for  him  and  his  mosi 
affectionate  wife  he  felt  a  filial  respect  and  tenderness.  This 
patriarchal  man  is  still  alive,  and  a  pillar  in  the  Church  of 
God  in  that  place  :  and  the  friendship  between  him  and  Mr. 
C.  has  never  known  diminution  or  decay,  though  it  has  now 
lasted  upwards  of  thirty-five  years.  He  was  one  of  those 
friends  who  was  as  dear  as  a  brother;  and  on  whose  mind, 
the  changes  and  chances  of  time  made  no  impression  in  re- 


PLYMOUTH  DOCK  CIRCUIT. 


1S5 


spect  to  the  object  of  his  friendship.  May  the  sun  of  his 
spiritual  prosperity  never  be  clouded,  but  shine  brighter  and 
broader  till  its  setting !  Local  distance  has  long  separated 
them;  though  Mr.  C.  has  contrived  occasionally  to  pay  him  a 
visit  in  Camelford.  However,  they  cannot  be  long  separated  : 
Mr.  M.  in  the  course  of  nature  must  soon  pass  Jordan ;  and 
his  friend  Mr.  C.  cannot  be  long  behind  him, — they  will 
shortly  be  joined 

 "  In  those  Elysian  seats 

Where  Jonathan  his  David  meets."* 

While  in  this  county  he  felt  a  desire  to  examine  its  anti- 
quities, but  time  would  not  permit  him.  Afterwards,  on  his 
visits  to  see  Mr.  Mabyn,  he  examined  the  logging-stones  and 
rock  basins  on  Raw-tor,  of  which  he  wrote  a  new  theory  ;t 
and  took  down  the  inscription  from  what  is  called  Arthur's 
tomb-stone,  on  the  place  where  the  famous  and  decisive  battle 
was  fought  between  Arthur  and  his  son-in-law  Mordred ;  in 
which,  though  the  latter  was  slain,  and  his  army  totally  routed, 
yet  the  former  received  his  death's  wound,  and  shortly  after 
died  at  Glastonbury.  On  this  stone  Mr.  C.  wrote  a  Disser 
tation.t  stating  it  to  be  the  tomb-stone  of  one  of  Arthur's  sons. 

PLYMOUTH  DOCK  CIRCUIT,  1785-6. 

At  the  Conference,  which  was  held  in  London  this  year, 
strong  application  was  made  to  Mr.  Wesley  to  appoint  Mr.  C. 
a  second  year  to  the  St.  Austell  circuit,  and  with  this  applica- 
tion he  at  first  complied:  but  the  people  of  Plymouth  Dock, 
who  had  suffered  by  a  rent  made  in  the  society  by  the  secession 
of  Mr.  W.  Moore,  who  had  carried  with  him  more  than  fifty 
of  the  society,  requested  Mr.  W.,  most  earnestly,  to  appoint 
Mr.  C.  for  them,  as  one  that  was  most  likely  to  counteract  the 
influence  of  the  disaffected  party.  To  them  Mr.  W.  yielded, 
and  Mr.  C.  receiving  this  appointment,  entered  on  this  new 
circuit,  Aug.  27,  1785. 

This  circuit  included  the  following  places,  partly  in  Devon, 
partly  in  Cormcall.  Plymouth,  Dock,  Torpoint,  Stonehouse, 
Plympton,  Tavistock,  Launceston,  Trelabe,  Tregar,  Ex,  Bur- 
rowcot,  Dixbeer,  Collory,  Altarnun,  Beeralston,  Hull,  Pitt,  and 
Butternelle.  Several  of  these  were  new  places,  taken  in  the 
course  of  that  year.  The  preachers  were  John  Mason,  Adam 
Clarke,  and  John  King :  with  Messrs.  Mason  and  King  he 
lived  and  laboured  in  the  utmost  harmony,  and  Methodism 

*  Mr.  Mabyn  died  in  the  year  1820,  retaining  and  manifesting  his 
friendship  for  Dr.  Clarke  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life. 

t  These  Treatises  will  hereafter  be  published  among  Dr.  Clarke's 
Miscellaneous  Works. 
16* 


186  INCREASE  OF  PHILOSOPHICAL  KNOWLEDGE. 


prospered  greatly  ;  as  in  the  course  of  that  year  they  doubled 
the  society.  Of  the  fifty  that  went  off  with  Mr.  Moore  in 
Dock,  several  returned,  and  in  place  of  those  who  continued  in 
the  secession,  more  than  one  hundred  were  added  to  that  so- 
ciety in  the  course  of  the  year.  The  congregations  became 
immense,  and  from  the  Dock-yard,  and  the  ships  in  the  Ha- 
moaze,  multitudes  flocked  to  the  preaching,  and  many  were 
brought  to  God.  Cleland  Kirkpatrick,  (who  had  his  ami 
shot  oft"  in  an  engagement  with  the  famous  Paul  Jones,  and 
was  then  cook  oi  the  Cambridge  man-of-war,)  joined  the  so- 
ciety at  that  time,  and  became  afterwards  a  travelling  preacher : 
in  which  office  he  still  continues. 

The  days  in  which  Mr.  Clarke's  labours  were  not  required 
in  Plymouth  or  Dock,  he  made  excursions  into  different  parts 
of  Cornwall,  preached  in  new  places,  and  formed  several  new 
societies..  He  preached  also  in  Dock,  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning  throughout  the  year:  and  generally  went  about  to 
the  different  houses  in  the  dark  winter  mornings,  with  his  lan- 
thorn,  to  awake  those  whom  he  thought  should  attend  the 
preaching  ! 

It  was,  while  he  was  on  this  circuit,  as  has  been  already  an- 
ticipated, that  the  row  relative  to  the  total  abandonment  of 
classical  learning,  was  broken  :  and  here,  having  more  leisure 
than  he  had  previously,  he  bent  his  mind  to  study.  In  this  he 
was  greatly  assisted  by  James  Hore,  Esq.  of  the  R.  N.;  after- 
wards purser  of  the  Venerable,  in  which  Admiral  Duncan 
gained  the  victory  over  the  Dutch  fleet,  under  De  Winter; 
and  who  died  in  the  same  service,  in  the  Egyptian  expedition. 
This  gentleman  lent  him  books,  and  among  the  rest,  Cham- 
bers'' Encyclopaedia ,  2  vols.  fol.  In  this  work,  which  was  a 
library  of  itself,  he  spent  almost  every  spare  hour :  here  his 
philosophical  taste  was  gratified,  and  his  knowledge  greatly 
increased.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  conceive  how  much  he 
profited  by  this  work  ;  he  made  nearly  every  subject  there  dis- 
cussed, his  own;  and  laid  in  a  considerable  stock  of  useful 
knowledge,  which  he  laid  under  constant  contribution  to  his 
ministerial  labours.  He  has  often  said,  "  I  owe  more  to  Mr. 
Hore,  than  to  most  men,  for  the  loan  of  this  work.  The  gift 
of  a  thousand  indiscriminate  volumes,  would  not  have  equal- 
led the  utility  of  this  /ocm."  It  is  with  pleasure  that  he  has 
recorded,  "  The  eldest  daughter  of  this  most  worthy  man,  a 
young  lady  of  great  excellence,  is  now  the  wife  of  the  Rev. 
W.  Henshaw,  one  of  the  most  respectable  as  well  as  useful, 
of  the  present  body  of  itinerant  Methodist  preachers."  Of 
the  Encyclopcedia  of  Mr.  Chambers,  he  could  never  speak 
without  the  highest  commendation,  as  being  far  before  every 
other  work  of  the  kind:  and  in  its  original  form,  allowing  for 
late  discoveries  and  improvements,  far  surpassing  the  vastly 
voluminous  French  Erin/rloppdie,  thirty-five  vols,  fol.,  pro- 


SINGERS,  VEXATIOUS  AND  USELESS  IN  PUBLIC  WORSHIP.  187 

fessedly  formed  after  its  model,  and  all  others  in  our  own 
country,  which  indeed  has  been  the  land  of  Encyclopaedias, 
Cyclopaedias,  Dictionaries  of'  Arts  and  Sciences,  &c.  And, 
with  the  above  allowances,  beyond  comparison  preferable  to 
those  editions  of  the  same  work,  which  have  been  made  since 
his  time,  by  different  hands,  with  all  their  professed  improve- 
ments by  the  immense  additions  of  encumbering,  heteroge- 
neous and  discordant  materials.  When  he  was  able  to  pur- 
chase a  book  of  any  magnitude,  he  bought  this  ;  and  has  ever 
preserved  a  copy  of  it  in  his  library,  in  grateful  remembrance 
of  the  great  service  which  he  formerly  derived  from  it. 

This  work,  castigated  to  the  present  improved  state  of  sci- 
ence, and  enlarged  about  one  third  or  one  half,  so  that  it  might 
make  three  or  four  volumes  folio,  without  changing  Mr.  Cham- 
bers' plan,  would  comprehend  all  that  is  essentially  necessary 
for  a  work  of  this  kind  ;  and  be  highly  acceptable  to  the  pub- 
lic, instead  of  those  vast  voluminous  works  which  are  beyond 
the  purchase  of  those  persons  who  need  them  most,  and  would 
profit  most  by  them;  and  in  which,  disjointed  and  shapeless 
lumber  is  of  more  frequent  occurrence  than  valuable  furniture, 
or  useful  implements. 

To  help  him  in  his  Hebrew  studies,  he  had  purchased 
Leigh's  Critica  Sacra. :  a  work  of  great  study  and  research, 
and  invaluable  to  a  biblical  student.  It  not  only  gives  the 
literal  sense  of  every  Greek  and  Hebrew  word  in  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments,  but  enriches  almost  every  definition  with 
philological  and  theological  notes  drawn  from  the  best  gram- 
marians and  critics.  To  this  work,  the  best  edition  of  which 
is  that  of  Lond.  1662,  with  a  Supplement  to  both  parts,  most 
succeeding  lexicographers  have  been  greatly  indebted.  He 
was  also  laid  under  great  obligations  to  a  lady  to  whom  he 
was  personally  unknown,  Miss  Kennicott,  of  Dock,  who  hear- 
ing of-  his  thirst  for  knowledge,  lent  him  her  brother's  (Dr. 
Kennicott)  edition  of  the  Hebrew  Bible,  two  vols.  fol.  with 
various  readings  collected  from  nearly  700  MSS.,  and  early 
printed  editions.  This  work,  which  he  carefully  studied,  gave 
him  the  first  knowledge  of  Biblical  Criticism.  The  work 
had  been  but  lately  published ;  and  had  he  not  seen  it  in  this 
providential  way,  several  years  must  have  elapsed  before  it 
could  have  fallen  under  his  notice. 

This  year  the  society  at  Dock  built  a  new  chapel  at  Wind- 
mill Hill,  much  more  commodious  than  that  which  they  had 
opposite  the  Gun-Wharf  Gate  ;  but  so  much  had  the  congre- 
gations increased  that  this  new  erection  was  soon  found  to  be 
too  small.  When  the  seats  of  this  chapel  were  in  course  of 
being  let,  he  noticed  for  the  first  time,  what  he  had  occasion 
to  notice  with  pain  often  after:— How  difficult  it  is  to  satisfy 
a  choir  of  singers  ;  of  how  little  use  they  are  in  general,  and 
how  dangerous  thev  are  at  all  times  to  the  peace  of  the  Church 


188     SINGERS,  VEXATIOUS  AND  USELESS  IN  PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 

of  Christ.  There  was  here  a  choir,  and  there  were  some 
;imong  them  who  understood  music  as  well  as  most  in  the 
nation ;  and  some,  who  taken  individually,  were  both  sensi- 
ble and  pious.  These,  in  their  collective  capacity,  wished  to 
have  a  particular  seat,  with  which  the  trustees  could  not  con- 
veniently accommodate  them,  because  of  their  engagements 
to  other  persons.  When  the  signers  found  they  could  not 
have  the  places  they  wished,  they  came  to  a  private  resolution 
not  to  sing  in  the  chapel.  Of  this  resolution,  the  preachers 
knew  nothing.  It  was  Mr.  C.'s  turn  to  preach  in  the  chapel 
at  ihe  Gun-Wharf,  the  next  Sabbath  morning  at  seven  ;  and 
there  they  intended  to  give  the  first  exhibition  of  their  dumb- 
show.  He  gave  out,  as  usual,  the  page  and  measure  of  the 
hymn.  All  was  silent.  He  looked  to  see  if  the  singers  were 
in  their  place  ;  and  behold,  the  choir  was  full;  even  unusually 
so.  He,  thinking  I  hat  they  could  not  find  the  page,  or  did  not 
know  the  measure,  gave  out  both  again  ;  and  then  looked  them 
all  full  in  the  face  ;  which  they  returned  with  great  steadiness 
of  countenance !  He  then  raised  the  tune  himself,  and  the 
congregation  continued  the  singing.  Not  knowing  what  the 
matter  was,  he  gave  out  the  next  hymn  as  he  had  given  out  the 
former,  again  and  again, — still  they  were  silent.  He  then 
raised  the  tune,  and  the  congregation  sang  as  before.  After- 
wards he  learned,  that  as  the  trustees  would  not  indulge  them 
with  the  places  they  wished,  they  were  determined  to  avenge 
their  quarrel  on  Almighty  God  :  for  He  should  have  no  praise 
from  them,  since  they  could  not  have  the  seats  they  wished  ! 
The  impiety  of  this  conduct  appeared  to  him  in  a  most  hideous 
point  of  view:  for,  if  the  singing  be  designed  to  set  forth  the 
praises  of  the  Lord,  the  refusing  to  do  this,  because  they  could 
not  have  their  own  wills  in  sitting  in  a  particular  place,  though 
they  were  offered,  free  of  expense,  one  of  the  best  situations 
in  the  chapel,  was  a  broad  insult  on  God  Almighty.  They 
continued  this  ungodly  farce,  hoping  to  reduce  the  trustees, 
preachers,  and  society,  to  the  necessity  of  capitulating  at  dis- 
cretion ;  but  the  besieged,  by  appointing  a  man  to  be  always 
present  to  raise  the  tunes,  cut  off  the  whole  choir  at  a  stroke. 
From  this  time,  the  liveliness  and  piety  of  the  singing  were 
considerably  improved :  for  now,  the  congregation,  instead  of 
listening  to  the  warbling  of  the  choir,  all  joined  in  the  sing- 
ing ;  and  God  had  hearty  praise  from  every  mouth.  Mr.  C. 
has  often  witnessed  similar  disaffection  in  other  places,  by 
means  of  the  singers ;  and  has  frequently  been  heard  to  say  : 
"  Though  I  never  had  a  personal  quarrel  with  the  singers,  in 
any  place,  yet,  I  have  never  known  one  case  where  there  was 
a  choir  of  singers,  that  they  did  not  make  disturbance  in  the 
societies.  And  it  would  be  much  better,  in  every  case,  and  in 
every  respect,  to  employ  a  precentor,  or  a  person  to  raise  the 
tunes,  and  then  the  congregation  would  learn  to  sing — the  pur 


MR.  MASON. 


iS9 


pose  of  singing  would  be  accomplished,— every  mouth  would 
confess  to  God, — and  a  horrible  evil  would  be  prevented, — 
the  bringing  together  into  the  house  of  God,  and  making  them 
the  almost  only  instruments  of  celebrating  his  praises,  such  a 
company  of  gay,  airy,  giddy,  and  ungodly  men  and  women,  as 


be  had,  let  decency  of  behaviour  and  morality  be  where  they 
will.  Every  thing  must  be  sacrificed  to  a  good  voice,  in  order 
to  make  the  choir  complete  and  respectable."  Many  scandals 
have  been  brought  into  the  church  of  God  by  choirs  and  their 
accompaniments.  Why  do  not  the  Methodist  preachers  lay 
this  to  heart? 

At  the  conduct  of  the  singers  in  Plymouth  Dock,  Mr.  C. 
was  much  grieved,  because  there  were  among  them  men  of 
sound  sense,  amiable  manners,  and  true  piety  :  and  so  they 
continued  in  their  individual  capacity ;  but  when  once  merged 
in  the  choir,  they  felt  only  for  its  honour,  and  became  like  to 
other  men  !  Disturbances  of  this  kind  which  he  has  witnessed 
in  all  the  large  societies,  have  led  him  often  seriously  to  ques- 
tion, whether  public  singing  made  any  essential  part  in  the 
worship  of  God !  most  of  those  who  are  employed  in  it  being 
the  least  spiritual  part  of  the  church  of  Christ ;  generally 
proud,  self-willed,  obstinate,  and  untractable :  besides,  they 
uniformly  hinder  congregational  singing,  the  congregation 
leaving  this  work  to  them;  and  they  desiring  it  so  to  be 
left. 

In  the  way  of  incident,  there  was  nothing  remarkable  in  the 
course  of  this  year.  Methodism  prospered  greatlv,  and  he  was 
happy  in  the  friendship  of  several  excellent  people  in  different 
parts  of  the  circuit,  but  especially  in  Dock.  Mr.  Mason,  whom 
he  considered  as  an  apostolic  father,  was  very  useful  to  him: 
his  upright,  orderly,  and  regular  conduct,  furnished  him  with 
lessons  of  great  importance  :  and  from  him  he  learned  how  to 
demean  and  behave  himself  in  civil  and  religious  society.  Of 
him  he  spoke  with  high  commendation  in  a  small  work,  en- 
titled, ,4  Letter  to  a  Preacher,  which  has  gone  through  four 
editions  to  the  present  year  1819;  and  when  this  excellent 
man  died,  Mr.  C.  was  desired,  by  the  Conference  held  in  Lon- 
don in  1810,  to  draw  up  his  character,  which  he  did  in  the  fol- 
lowing terms : — 

"Mr.  Mason  made  it  the  study  of  his  life  to  maintain  his 
character  as  a  preacher,  a  Christian,  and  a  man;  the  latter 
word  taken  in  ils  noblest  sense  :  and  he  did  this  by  cultivating 
his  mind  in  every  branch  of  useful  knowledge  within  his  reach; 
and  his  profiting  was  great.  In  the  history  of  the  world,  and 
the  history  oj  the  church,  he  was  very  extensively  read.  With 
anatomy  and  medicine  he  was  well  acquainted  ;  and  his  know- 
ledge of  natural  history,  particularly  of  botany,  was  very  ex- 


are  generall] 


190 


ON  QUACK  MEDICINES. 


tensive.  In  the  latter  science  he  was  inferior  to  few  in  the 
British  empire.  His  botanical  collections,  would  do  credit  to 
the  first  museum  in  Europe ;  and  especially  his  collections  of 
English  plants,  all  gathered,  preserved,  classified,  and  descri- 
bed by  his  own  hand.  But  this  was  his  let^t  praise:  he  laid 
all  his  attainments  in  the  natural  sciences,  under  contribution 
to  his  theological  studies :  nor  could  it  ever  be  said  that  he 
neglected  his  duty  as  a  Christian  minister,  to  cultivate  his 
mind  in  philosophical  pursuits. 

"He  was  a  Christian  man;  and  in  his  life  and  spirit, 
adorned  the  doctrine  of  God  his  Saviour.  The  decency,  pro- 
priety, and  dignity  of  his  conduct  were,  through  the  whole  of 
his  life,  truly  exemplary.  And  his  piety  towards  God,  and  his 
benevolence  towards  man,  were  as  deep  as  they  were  sincere 
— I  am  constrained  to  add, — 

He  was  a  Man  ;  take  him  for  all  in  all, 
I  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again.' 

He  died,  Friday,  April  27, 1810,  aged  seventy-eight  years,  and 
lies  buried  at  West  Meon,  in  Hampshire ;  his  general  resi- 
dence some  years  before  his  death." 

Mr.  Mason  might  have  lived  at  least  ten  years  longer,  for 
his  constitution  was  good,  and  his  habits  perfectly  regular,  had 
he  not  unfortunately,  taken  to  a  milk  diet  for  several  of  his 
latter  years.  This  did  not  afford  sufficient  nutriment  to  his 
body.  He  was  strong  boned  and  six-feet  high,  and  the  nou- 
rishment derived  from  this  most  inadequate  diet,  was  not  suf- 
ficient to  clothe  his  bones  with  healthy  and  vigorous  muscles. 
The  consequence  was,  he  began  to  stoop,  and  his  feet,  &c. 
became  ricketty ;  and  he  sunk  rather  through  want  of  due 
nourishment,  than  by  weight  of  years,  or  unavoidable  bodily 
infirmities.  What  became  of  his  collections  of  fossils,  mine 
rals,  and  plants,  I  do  not  know :  I  believe,  they  were  all  scat- 
tered and  lost,  except  a  Hortus  Siccus,  in  forty-three  vols.  8vo., 
which  he  presented  to  his  friend  Mr.  Clarke,  several  years  be- 
fore his  death. 

From  him,  while  they  travelled  together  at  Plymouth,  Mr 
Clarke  had  the  following  anecdote ;  which,  as  the  parties  are 
now  long  dead,  can  on  that  account,  do  no  harm  to  be  related, 
and  should  be  most  extensively  published. 

A.  B.  and  his  wife  C.  B.,  were  members  of  the  Methodists' 
Society,  in  Portsmouth  Common :  and  in  decent  and  respect- 
able circumstances.  C.  B.  was  frequently  troubled  with  indi- 
gestion, and  consequent  flatulencies.  A  female  neighbour 
said  to  C.  B. :  "  There  is  a  very  fine  bottle  which  has  done  me 
much  good,  and  I  was  just  as  you  are  ;  and  I  am  sure  it  would 
do  you  much  good  also.  Do  try  but  one  bottle  of  it." — "  What 
do  you  call  it?"—"  Godfrey's  Cordial."— "  Well,  I  will  try  it, 


ON  UUACK  MEDICINES. 


191 


in  God's  name,  lor  1  am  sadly  troubled,  and  would  give  any 
thing  for  a  cure,  or  even  for  ease."  A  bottle  of  this  fine  spirit- 
uous saccharine  opiate,  was  bought  and  taken  secundum  artem; 
and  it  acted  as  an  elegant  dram  !  "  O,  dear,  this  is  a  very 
fine  thing  ;  it  has  done  me  good  already  ;  I  shall  never  be  with- 
out this  in  the  house."  A  little  disorder  in  the  stomach  called 
the  bottle  again  into  request :  it  acted  as  before,  and  got  addi- 
tional praises.  By  and  bye,  the  husband  himself  got  poorly 
with  a  pain  in  his  stomach  and  bowels  ;  the  wife  said,  "Do, 
A.,  take  a  little  of  my  bottle,  it  will  do  you  much  good."  He 
took  it ;  but  then,  as  he  was  a  man,  it  must  be  a  stronger  dose. 
"  Well.  C,  this  is  a  very  fine  thing,  it  has  eased  me  much." — 
Though  the  wife  was  not  cured,  yet  she  was  very  much  reliev- 
ed !  So  bottle  after  bottle  was  purchased,  and  taken  in  pretty 
quick  succession.  The  husband  found  it  necessary  also  to  have 
frequent  recourse  to  the  same  ;  and  now  they  could  both 
bear  a  double  dose;  by  and  bye  it  was  trebled  and  quad- 
rupled ;  for,  former  doses  did  not  give  relief  as  usual :  but 
the  increased  dose  did. — No  customers  to  the  quack  medi- 
cine venders  were  equal  to  A.  B.  and  his  wife. — They  had 
it  at  last  by  the  dozen,  if  not  by  the  gross!  Soon,  scores 
of  pounds  were  expended  on  this  carminative  opiate,  till 
at  last  they  had  expended  on  it  their  whole  substance.  Even 
their  furniture  went  by  degrees,  till  at  last  they  were  reduced 
to  absolute  want,  and  were  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  the  Poor- 
house.  Here  they  were  visited  by  some  pious  people  of  the 
Society — saw  their  error,  deplored  it,  and  sought  God  for  par- 
don. A  good  report  was  brought  of  this  miserable  cou  pie  to 
the  Society  :  it  was  staled  that,  they  saw  their  folly,  and  were 
truly  penitent ;  and  it  was  a  pity  to  permit  a  couple,  who  in  all 
human  probability,  had  much  of  life  before  them,  to  linger  it 
out  uselessly  in  a  wretched  workhouse.  A  collection  was  pro- 
posed for  their  relief,  among  the  principal  friends  ;  it  was  pro- 
ductive, for  a  considerable  sum  was  raised.  They  were  brought 
out,  placed  in  a  decent  little  dwelling,  and  a  proper  assortment 
of  goods  purchased  with  the  subscription  already  mentioned, 
and  they  were  set  up  in  a  respectable  little  shop.  Many  of 
the  friends  hound  themselves  to  give  A.  B.  and  his  wife  their 
custom  : — they  did  so,  and  the  capital  was  soon  doubled,  and 
they  went  on  ui  religious  and  secular  things  very  prosperously. 
Unfortunately,  the  wife  thought  her  indigestion  and  flatulen- 
cies had  returned,  were  returning,  or  would  soon  return  ;  and 
she  once  more  thought  of  Godfrey's  Cordial,  with  desire  and 
terror.  "  I  should  have  a  bottle  in  the  house  :  surely  I  have 
been  so  warned  that  I  am  not  likely  to  make  a  bad  use  of  it 
igain."— "  C.,  I  am  afraid  of  it,"  said  the  husband.  "  My  dear," 
said  she,  "we  have  now  experience,  and  I  hope  we  may  both 
take  what  will  do  us  good  and  that  only." — Not  to  be  tedious, 
another  bottle  was  bought,  and  another,  and  a  dozen,  and  a 


192 


PREPARES  TO  GO  TO  JERSEY. 


gross  j — and  in  this  they  once  more  drunk  out  all  their  property, 
and  terminated  their  lives  in  Portsmouth  Common  Workhouse ! 

The  Reader  may  be  astonished  at  this  infatuation :  but  he 
may  rest  assured  that  the  case  is  not  uncommon :  Daffy's 
Elixir,  Godfrey's  Cordial,  and  Solomon's  Balm  of  Gilead, 
have  in  a  similar  manner  impoverished,  if  not  destroyed, 
thousands.  On  this  very  principle  they  are  constructed. 
They  are  intended  to  meet  the  palate,  and  under  the  spe- 
cious name  of  medicines,  they  are  actually  used  as  drams; 
and  in  no  few  cases  engender  the  use  of  each  other.  Thus, 
drops  beget  drams;  and  drams  beget  more  drops ;  and  they, 
drams  in  their  turn,  till  health  and  property  are  both  destroyed ; 
and,  I  may  add,  the  soul  ruined  by  these  truly  infernal  com- 
posts. It  would,  it  is  true,  be  easy  to  expose  them  ;  and  it  is 
difficult  to  refrain  : — 

"  Difficile  est  Satirain  non  scribere,  nam  quis  iniqua 
Tarn,  patiens  urbis,  tarn  ferreus,  id  tcneat  se?" 

But  who  dares  do  this  1  The  iniquity  is  licensed  by  the  State  : 
and  government  makes  a  gain  by  taxation  of  that  which  is 
destroying  the  lives  and  morals  of  the  subject! 

As  the  time  of  conference  drew  nigh,  there  was  a  strong 
and  general  desire  in  the  Societies  to  have  Mr.  C.  appointed 
a  second  year  for  the  Plymouth  Dock  circuit :  and  there  was 
every  probability  that  this  wish  would  have  been  met  by  Mr. 
Wesley,  had  it  not  been  for  the  following  circumstance : — 

Robert  Carr  Brakenbury,  Esq.,  who  had  been  long  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Methodists'  Society,  and  ranked  among  their  preach- 
ers, had  gone  over  to  the  Norman  Islands  and  had  preached 
successfully,  especially  in  the  Island  of  Jersey,  where  he  had 
taken  a  house,  and  set  up  a  family  establishment.  At  this 
Conference  he  applied  to  Mr.  Wesley  for  a  preacher  to  assist 
him :  and  Mr.  C.  was  fixed  on,  as  having  some  knowledge  of 
the  French  language.  To  the  regret  of  the  circuit,  and  not 
entirely  with  his  own  approbation,  he  was  appointed ;  and 
was  ordered  to  hold  himself  in  readiness  to  sail  in  company 
with  Mr.  Brakenbury,  as  soon  as  the  latter  could  settle  his 
affairs  at  his  seat  at  Raithby,  Lincolnshire,  so  as  to  admit  of 
absence  for  three  months. 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  C.  went  and  paid  a  visit  to  his  brother, 
Surgeon  Clarke,  who,  as  we  have  already  seen,  was  now  set- 
tled at  a  place  called  Maghull,  near  Liverpool.  While  Mr. 
C.  was  on  this  visit,  he  preached  different  times  in  that  neigh- 
bourhood, several  were  awakened,  and  a  society  was  formed, 
which  having  gone  through  many  vicissitudes,  still  exists, 
though  not  now  in  a  state  of  great  prosperity.  On  his  return 
from  Liverpool  by  Bristol,  lo  go  to  Southampton,  where  he 


MISS  MARY  COOKL. 


L9J 


was  to  embark  for  the  Islands ;  as  Mr.  Brakenbury  was  not 
yet  come,  he  visited  his  old  circuit,  (Bradford,)  and  spent 
several  days  at  Trowbridge,  where  he  had  always  a  parental 
reception  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Knapp,  where  the  preachers 
generally  lodged.  There  were  in  the  society  of  this  place, 
several  young  women,  who  were  among  the  most  sensible 
and  pious  in  the  Methodists'  connexion,  particularly  the  Miss 
Cookes ;  Mary,  Elizabeth,  and  Frances  :  the  two  latter  having 
been  among  the  first  members  of  the  society  in  this  town. 
With  these  young  ladies  he  occasionally  corresponded,  es- 
pecially with  the  second,  ever  since  he  had  been  in  that  circuit. 
This  correspondence,  as  it  had  been  chiefly  on  matters  of  re- 
ligious experience,  improved  his  mind  much,  and  his  style  of 
writing.  He  found  it  of  great  advantage  to  have  a  well  edu- 
cated and  sensible  correspondent;  and  as  neither  had  anything 
in  view  but  their  religious  and  intellectual  improvement,  they 
wrote  without  reserve  or  embarrassment,  and  discussed  every 
subject  that  tended  to  expand  the  mind  or  ameliorate  the 
heart.  About  two  years  before  this,  the  eldest  sister,  Mary. 
had  joined  the  society ;  and  became  one  of  Mr.  C.'s  occasional 
correspondents.  On  this  visit  a  more  intimate  acquaintance 
took  place,  which  terminated  nearly  two  years  after  in  a  mar- 
riage, the  most  suitable  and  honourable  to  both  parties,  and 
prosperous  in  its  results,  that  ever  occurred  in  the  course  of 
Divine  Providence.  Of  her  good  sense,  prudence,  piety,  and 
rare  talents  for  domestic  management  and  the  education  of  a 
family,  too  much  cannot  easily  be  said. — "  Her  works  praise 
her  in  the  gates,  and  her  reputation  is  in  all  the  churches." 

Having  tarried  here  a  few  days,  he  received  a  letter  from 
Mr.  B.,  appointing  a  day  to  meet  him  at  Southampton.  He 
set  off' and  got  there  at  the  time  appointed;  but  Mr.  B.  was 
detained  nearly  a  fortnight  longer.  During  this  delay,  Mr.  C. 
was  kindly  entertained  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Fay,  in  whose 
son's  school-room  he  had  the  opportunity  of  preaching  several 
times  during  his  stay. 

He  also  visited  Winchester,  on  .the  invitation  of  Mr.  Jasper 
Winscomb,  and  preached  there  frequently:  and  spent  much 
of  his  time  in  the  cathedral,  examining  the  monuments,  and 
making  reflections  on  the  subject:,  they  presented.  As  these 
were  entered  under  heads,  in  a  species  of  Journal,  I  shall 
select  a  few.  They  were  all  written  between  the  J  1th  and 
19th  of  October,  while  waiting  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Brackenbury. 


17 


194 


EARTHLY  GLORY. 


ON  EARTHLY  GLORY. 

Winchester,  October  12,  1786. 

"  How  little  is  worldly  grandeur  worth,  together  with  all 
the  most  splendid  distinctions,  which  great  and  pompous 
titles,  or  even  important  offices,  confer  upon  men  !  They 
vanish  as  a  dissipated  vapour,  and  the  proprietors  of  them 
go  their  way;  and  where  are  they?  or  of  what  account? 
Death  is  the  common  lot  of  all  men :  and  the  honours  of  the 
great,  and  the  abjectness  of  the  mean,  are  equally  unseen  in 
the  tomb.  This  I  saw  abundantly  exemplified  to-day,  while 
viewing  the  remains  of  several  kings,  Saxon  and  English, 
whose  very  names,  much  less  their  persons  and  importance, 
are  scarcely  collectible  from  '  Rosy  damps,  mouldy  shrines, 
dust,  and  cobwebs."  This  exhibits  a  proper  estimate  of  hu- 
man glory  :  and  verifies  the  saying  of  the  wise  man, — A  living 
dog  is  better  than  a  dead  lion.  The  meanest  living  slave  is 
preferable  to  all  these  dead  potentates.  Is  there  any  true 
greatness,  but  that  of  the  soul?  And  has  the  soul  any  true 
nobility  unless  it  is  begotten  from  above,  and  has  the  spirit  and 
love  of  Christ  to  actuate  it?  surely  none.  The  title  of  Ser- 
vant of  the  Lord  Jesus,  I  prefer  to  the  glory  of  these  kings  : 
this  will  stand  me  in  stead,  when  the  other,  with  all  its  im- 
portance, is  eternally  forgotten. 

"  In  the  time  of  the  civil  wars,  the  tombs  of  several  of  our 
kings,  who  were  buried  in  this  cathedral,  were  broken  up  and 
rifled,  and  the  bones  thrown  indiscriminately  about.  After 
the  Restoration  these  were  collected,  and  put  in  large  chests, 
which  are  placed  in  different  parts  of  the  choir,  and  labelled  as 
containing  bones  of  our  ancient  kings;  but  which,  could  not 
be  discriminated." 


CHURCH  NEWS. 

Winchester,  October  12. 

"The  following  remarkable  inscription  I  took  down  from 
the  wall  in  this  cathedral. 

1  The  union  of  two  brothers  from  Avington. 
'  The  Clerks'  family,  were,  grandfather,  father  and  son,  suc- 
cessively clerks  of  the  Privy  Seal. 

'William,  the  grandfather,  had  two  sons,  both  Thomas's; 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  REVELATION. 


m 


their  wives,  both  Amy's;  their  heirs,  both  Henry's;  and  the 
heirs  of  Henry's,  both  Thomas's;  botli  their  wives  were  in- 
heritrix's; and  both  had  two  sons  and  one  daughter ;  and  both 
their  daughters  issueless.  Both  of  Oxford  ;  both  of  the  Tem- 
ple ;  both  officers  of  queen  Elizabeth  and  our  noble  king  James. 
Both  justices  of  the  peace  together.  Both  agree  in  arms,  the 
one  a  knight  and  the  other  a  captain. 

'  Si  quaras  Avinglonium  pclus  canccllvm  impensis. 

'  Thomas  Clerk,  of  Hyde,  1623.' 

"  It  is  not  an  uncommon  case  that  the  things  least  worthy  of 
commemoration  are  recorded,  while  those  of  the  utmost  im- 
portance, are  forgotten  :  had  those  two  brothers  lived  and  died 
in  the  favour  of  God,  and  left  a  clear  testimony  of  His  pardon- 
ing and  sanctifying  grace  behind  them,  I  doubt,  however  im- 
portant the  matter,  it  would  not  have  been  thought  worthy  of 
being  recorded.  Yet  the  inscription  above  is  curious,  and  de- 
serves to  be  registered  on  account  of  its  singular  and  striking 
coincidences." 


•  THE  PROGRESS  OF  REVELATION. 

Winchester,  Oct.  15. 

"Why  is  it  that  God  has  observed  so  slow  a  climax  in  bring- 
ing the  necessary  knowledge  of  His  will,  and  their  interest  to 
mankind?  e.  g.  giving  a  little  under  the  Patriarchal,  an  in- 
crease under  the  Mosaic,  and  the  fulness  of  the  blessing 
under  the  Gospel  Dispensation?  It  is  true,  He  could  have 
given  the  whole  in  the  beginning  to  Adam,  to  Noah,  to  Alna- 
ham,  or  any  other  of  the  ante  or  post  diluvian  Fathers :  but 
that  this  would  not  have  as  effectually  answered  the  Divine 
purpose,  may  be  safely  asserted. 

"God,  like  his  instrument  Nature,  delights  in  progression  ; 
and  although  the  works  of  both,  in  senu'we,  were  finished  from 
the  beginning,  nevertheless  they  are  not  brought  forward,  to 
actual  and  complete  existence,  but  by  various  accretions.  And 
this  appears  to  be  done  that  the  blessings  resulting  from  both 
may  be  properly  valued,  as  in  their  approach,  men  have  time 
to  discover  their  necessities ;  and  when  relieved  after  a  tho 
rough  consciousness  of  their  urgency,  they  see  and  feel  the 
propriety  of  being  grateful  to  their  kind  Benefactor. 

"  Were  God  to  bestow  his  blessings  before  the  want  of  them 
were  truly  felt,  men  could  not  be  properly  grateful  for  the  re- 
ception of  blessings,  the  value  of  which  they  had  not  known  by 
previously  feeling  the  want  of  them.   God  gives  His  blessings 


166 


ON  CONSCIENCE. 


that  they  may  be  duly  esteemed,  and  He  himself  become  the 
sole  object  of  our  dependence:  and  this  end  he  secures  by  a 
gradual  communication  of  his  bounties  as  they  are  felt  to  be 
necessary.  To  give  them  all  at  once  would  defeat  his  own 
intention,  and  leave  us  unconscious  of  our  dependence  on,  and 
debt  to  His  grace.  He,  therefore,  brings  forward  His  various 
dispensations  of  mercy  and  love,  as  He  sees  men  prepared  to 
receive  and  value  them  ;  and  as  the  receipt  of  the  grace  of  one 
dispensation  makes  way  for  another,  and  the  soul  is  thereby 
rendered  capable  of  more  extended  views  and  communications; 
so  the  Divine  Being  causes  every  succeeding  dispensation  to 
exceed  that  which  preceded  it :  on  this  ground  we  find  a  cli- 
max of  dispensations,  and  in  each,  a  progressive  graduated 
scale  of  light,  life,  power,  and  holiness. 

"  We  first  teach  our  children  the  power  of  Vie  letters — then 
to  combine  consonants  and  vowels  to  make  syllables — then  to 
unite  syllables  in  order  to  make  words;  then  to  assort  and 
connect  the  different  kinds  of  words,  in  order  to  form  lan- 
guage or  regular  discourse.  To  require  them  to  attempt  the 
latter,  before  they  had  studied  the  former,  would  be  absurd. 
The  first  step  leads  to  and  qualifies  for  the  second;  the  second 
for  the  third,  and  so  on.  Thus  God  deals  with  the  universe; 
and  thus  he  deals  with  every  individual; — every  communi- 
cation from  God,  is  a  kind  of  seed,  which,  if  properly  cultiva- 
ted, brings  forth  much  fruit.  '  Light  is  sown  for  the  righteous, 
and  gladness  for  the  upright  in  heart.'" 


ON  CONSCIENCE. 

"  Conscience  is  defined  by  some,  '  that  judgment  which  the 
rational  soul  passes  on  her  own  actions :  and  is  a  faculty  of  the 
soul  itself,  and  consequently  natural  to  it.  Others  say,  '  It  is 
a  ray  of  the  Divine  light.'  Milton  calls  it  '  God's  umpire 
and  Dr.  Young  seems  to  call  it '  a  God  in  man.'  To  me  it  ap- 
pears to  be  no  other  than  a  faculty  of  the  mind,  capable  of  re- 
ceiving light  and  information  from  the  Spirit  of  God  :  and  is  the 
same  to  the  soul  in  spiritual  matters,  as  the  eye  is  to  the  body 
in  the  things  which  concern  vision.  The  eye  is  not  light  in 
itself,  nor  is  it  capable  of  discerning  any  object,  but  by  the 
instrumentality  of  natural  or  artificial  light.  But  it  has  or- 
gans properly  adapted  to  the  reception  of  the  rays  of  light,  and 
the  various  images  of  the  objects  which  they  exhibit.  When 
these  are  present  to  an  eye,  the  structure  of  which  is  perfect, 
then  there  is  discernment  or  perception  of  those  objects  which 
are  within  the  sphere  of  vision  :  but  when  the  light  is  absent, 
there  is  no  perception  of  the  figure,  dimensions,  situation,  or 
colour  of  any  object,  howsoever  entire  or  perfect  the  optic  nerves 


ON  CONSCIENCE. 


19? 


may  be.  In  the  same  manner,  comparing  spiritual  things  with 
natural,  the  Spirit  of  God  enlightens  thafeye  of  the  soul  which 
we  call  conscience;  it  penetrates  it  with  its  effulgence,  and 
speaking,  as  human  language  will  permit  on  the  subject,  it  has 
organs  properly  adapted  for  the  reception  of  the  Spirit's  ema- 
nations, which  when  received  into  the  conscience  exhibit  a 
real  view  of  the  situation,  state,  &c.  of  the  soul  as  it  stands  in 
reference  to  God  and  eternity.  Thus  the  Scripture  says, 
The  Spirit  itself  bears  witness  with  our  spirits:  that  is,  it 
shines  into  the  conscience,  and  reflects  throughout  the  soul,  a 
conviction,  proportioned  to  the  degree  of  light  communicated, 
of  condemnation,  pardon,  or  acquittance,  according  to  the  end 
of  its  coming. 

"  Conscience  is  sometimes  said  to  be  good, — bad, — tender, 
— seared,  &c.  Good,  if  it  acquit  or  approve ;  bad,  if  it  con- 
demn or  disapprove;  tender,  if  alarmed  at  the  least  approach 
of  evil,  and  is  severe  in  scrutinizing  the  various  operations  of 
the  mind  and  passions,  as  well  as  the  actions  of  the  body : 
and  seared,  if  it  no  longer  act  thus,  the  Spirit  of  God  being 
so  grieved  that  its  light  is  no  longer  dispensed,  and  conscience 
no  longer  passes  judgment  on  the  actions  of  the  man.  These 
epithets  can  scarcely  belong  to  it,  if  the  common  definition 
be  admitted;  but  on  the  general  definition  already  given,  these 
terms  are  easily  understood,  and  are  exceedingly  proper:  e.  g. 
a  good  conscience,  is  that  to  which  the  Spirit  of  God  has 
brought  intelligence  of  the  pardon  of  all  the  sins  of  the  soul, 
and  its  reconciliation  to  God  through  the  Blood  of  the  Cove- 
nant ;  and  this  good  conscience  retained,  implies  God's  con- 
tinued approbation  of  such  a  person's  conduct.  A  bad  or 
evil  conscience,  is  that  which  records  a  charge  of  guilt  brought 
against  the  soul  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  on  account  of  the  trans- 
gression of  God's  holy  law ;  the  light  of  that  Spirit  shewing  the 
soul  the  nature  of  sin,  and  its  own  guilty  conduct.  A  lender 
conscience,  is  that  which  is  fully  irradiated  by  the  light  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  which  enables  the  soul  to  view  the  good  as  good, 
the  evil  as  evil,  in  every  important  respect ;  and,  consequently, 
leads  it  to  abominate  the  latter,  and  cleave  to  the  former : 
and,  if  at  any  time  it  act  in  the  smallest  measure  opposite  to 
those  views,  it  is  severe  in  self-reprehension,  and  bitter  in  its 
regrets.  A  darkened,  seared,  or  hardened,  conscience,  is  that 
which  has  little  or  none  of  this  divine  light;  the  soul  having 
by  repeated  transgressions  so  grieved  the  Spirit  of  God,  that 
it  has  withdrawn  its  light,  in  consequence  of  which,  the  man 
feels  no  remorse,  but  goes  on  in  repeated  acts  of  transgression, 
unaffected  either  by  threatenings  or  promises ;  and  careless 
about  the  destruction  which  awaits  it :  this  is  what  the  Scrip- 
ture means  by  the  conscience  being  seared,  as  with  a  hot  iron  ; 
j.  e.  by  repeated  transgressions,  and  resisting  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

"The  word  conscience  itself  vindicates  the  above  explana- 
17* 


ON  CONSCIENCE. 


tion  :— it  is  compounded  of  con,  together  or  with,  and  scio,  I 
know;  because  it  knows  or  combines  with,  by  or  together 
with,  the  Spirit  of  God. — The  Greek  word  owci&nais,  which  is 
the  only  word  used  for  conscience  through  the  whole  of  the 
New  Testament,  has  precisely  the  same  meaning,  being  com- 
pounded of  am  together  or  With,  and  ««5m  I  know :  and  this  de- 
finition will  apply  to  it  in  all  its  operations. 

"From  the  above,  I  think  we  may  safely  make  the  follow- 
ing inferences: — 1.  All  men  have  what  is  commonly  termed 
conscience,  and  conscience  plainly  supposes  the  influence  of 
the  Divine  Spirit  in  it,  convincing  of  sin,  righteousness,  and 
judgment.  2.  The  Spirit  of  God  is  given  to  enlighten,  con- 
vince, strengthen,  and  bring  men  back  to  God,  and  fit  them  for 
glory  by  purifying  their  hearts.  3.  Therefore  all  men  may  be 
saved  who  attend  to  and  coincide  with  the  convictions  and 
light  communicated :  for  the  God  of  the  Christians  does  not 
give  men  his  Spirit  to  enlighten,  i.  e.  merely  to  leave  them 
without  excuse;  but  that  it  may  direct,  strengthen,  lead  them 
to  himself,  that  they  may  be  finally  saved.  4.  That  this 
Spirit  comes  ,from  the  grace  of  God,  is  demonstrable  from 
hence:  'It  is  a  good  and  perfect  gift,'  and  St.  James  says, 
'  all  such  come  from  the  Father  of  lights.'  Besides,  it  is  such 
a  grace  as  cannot  be  merited  ;  for,  as  it  is  God's  Spirit,  it  is  of 
infinite  value:  yet  it  is  given  : — that,  then,  which  is  not  me- 
rited, and  yet  is  given,  must  be  of  grace,  not  condemning  or 
ineffectual  grace,  for  no  such  principle  comes  from  or  resides 
in  the  Godhead. 

"  Thus  it  appears  that  all  men  are  partakers  of  the  grace 
of  God;  for  all  acknowledge  that  conscience  is  common  to 
all:  and  this  implies,  as  I  hope  has  been  proved,  the  spirit  of 
grace  given  by  Christ  Jesus,  not  that  the  world  might  be 
thereby  condemned,  but  that  it  might  be  saved.  Nevertheless, 
multitudes  who  are  partakers  of  this  heavenly  gift,  sin  against 
it,  lose  it,  and  perish  everlastingly  :  not  through  any  defect  in 
the  gift,  but  through  the  abuse  of  it. 

"Hence  I  again  infer: — 1.  That  God  wills  all  men  to  be 
saved ;  for  he  dispenses  the  true  light  to  every  man  that  comes 
into  the  world. 

"  2.  That  he  gives  a  sufficiency  of  grace  to  accomplish  that 
end :  for  who  can  suppose  that  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  are  insufficient  for  that  purpose,  if  not  obstinately  re- 
sisted ?  God  will  not  force  the  human  will — he  cannot,  be- 
cause he  has  made  it  will,  and  consequently  free — freedom  is 
essential  to  the  notion  of  it,  and  to  its  existence.  All  force 
God  will  resist  and  overthrow  that  opposes  the  salvation  of  the 
soul :  but  the  volitions  of  the  soul  he  will  not,  cannot  force, 
for  this  would  imply  the  destruction  of  what  himself  wills 
should  exist,  and  should  exist  in  this  mode:  because  the  mode 
here  is  essential  to  the  existence. 


ON  NATURAL  EVILS. 


199 


"3.  That  this  grace  is  amissable: — this  is  sufficiently  evi- 
dent in  all  those  who  perish,  none  of  which  were  destitute  of 
conscience,  in  one  or  other  period  of  their  lives. 

"4.  And  lastly :  grace  received,  does  not  necessarily  im- 
ply grace  retained;  as  immense  numbers  resist  the  Holy 
Ghost  in  their  consciences,  and  so  grieve  this  good  spirit  as  to 
cause  it  to  depart  from  them  ;  and  then  they  go  on  frowardly 
in  the  way  ol  their  own  heart,  being  left  to  the  hardness  and 
darkness  of  their  own  minds. — Therefore,  let  him  that  stand- 
eth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall,  not  only  foully  but  finally." 


ARE  NATURAL  EVILS  THE  EFFECT  OF  INEVITABLE  NECESSITY  1 

Winchester,  October  19,  1786. 

"  Most  men  complain  of  difficulties  and  disappointments  in 
life ;  not  only  the  irreligious  and  profane,  but  those  also  who 
have  a  measure  of  the  fear  of  God.  The  former,  repine  and 
murmur,  taxing  the  Divine  Being  with  his  ungracious  carriage 
towards  them  :  the  latter,  supposing  these  evils  to  be  inevrta- 
ble,  from  the  present  constitution  of  things,  endeavour  to  bear 
them  with  resignation.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are 
many  evils  which  are  the  necessary  effects  of  physical  causes, 
but  we  cannot  allow  that  all  the  evils  that  exist  are  of  this 
kind. 

"  If  men  would  act  according  to  the  Divine  will,  few  of  the 
evils  which  are  now  so  miserably  felt  would  be  known.  By 
acting  contrary  to  the  Divine  counsel,  we  pierce  ourselves 
through  with  many  sorrows,  and  often  provoke  God  by  our 
rebellion,  to  use  that  scheme  of  providence  in  opposition  to 
us,  which  would  have  wrought  together  with  His  grace  for 
our  good,  had  we  submitted  ourselves  to  his  directions. 

"  Most  of  the  diseases  with  which  men  are  afflicted,  are 
the  consequence  of  either  their  indolence  or  intemperance, 
or  the  indulgence  of  disorderly  passions  :  and  a  principal  part 
of  the  poverty  that  is  in  the  world,  comes  in  the  same  way. — 
When  then  we  see  so  many  suffer  in  consequence  of  their 
frowardness  and  wickedness,  we  must  acknowledge  that  there 
are  fewer  inevitable  evils  in  the  world  than  is  generally  ima- 
gined :  and  that  if  men  would  simply  walk  according  to  the 
directions  of  God's  Holy  Word,  they  would  necessarily  avoid 
all  that  numerous  train  of  evils  which  spring  from  indolence, 
intemperance,  and  disorderly  passions :  and  their  path  would 
be  like  that  of  the  rising  light — shining  more  and  more  unto 
the  perfect  day. 

"Add  to  this:  there  are  some  who  will  be  continually  contriv- 
ing for  themselves,  and  will  not  be  contented  unless  every  thing 


200 


ON  PUBLISHING  LETTERS. 


be  their  own  way,  and  according  to  what  they  suppose  to  be 
right  and  proper:  these  suffer  much.  There  are  others  who 
take  God  at  his  word,  follow  Jesus  whithersoever  he  goeth, 
and  leave  themselves  and  their  affairs  entirely  to  His  disposal, 
well  knowing  Thou  canst  not  err;  and  ever  saying,  We  will 
not  choose:  these  suffer  little.  The  former,  if  they  get  to  glory, 
are  saved  as  by  fire,  and  just  escape  everlasting  burnings.  The 
latter  mount  up  with  wings  as  the  eagle  :  they  walk  and  are 
not  weary  :  they  run  and  are  not  faint.  They  live  comforta- 
bly, die  triumphantly,  and  have  an  abundant  entrance  admi- 
nistered to  them,  into  eternal  glory.  In  the  former,  the 
whole  face  of  the  Gospel  is  beclouded  and  disfigured  :  in  the 
latter  it  is  magnified,  made  honourable,  and  recommended  to 
all.    My  soul,  choose  thou  the  latter,  for  it  is  the  better  part.'' 


In  the  above  manner  Mr.  C.  noted  down  the  thoughts  that 
passed  through  his  mind  on  subjects  which  he  deemed  of  im- 
portance, and  this  mode  he  pursued  occasionally  for  some 
years  :  but  his  religious  correspondence  increasing,  he  was  ac- 
customed to  insert  in  his  letters  what  otherwise  would  have 
been  entered  in  his  common-place  book  :  and  of  these  letters, 
except  in  a  very  few  instances,  he  kept  no  copies.  Indeed  he 
had  no  opinion  of  their  excellence,  and  they  were  in  general 
written  without  any  kind  of  study,  and  must  have  been  very 
imperfect  :  on  which  account  he  has  often  been  heard  to  say, 
"I  hope  none  of  my  friends  will  ever  publish  any  of  the  let- 
ters I  have  written  to  them,  after  my  decease.  1  never  wrote 
one,  in  my  various  and  long  correspondence,  for  the  public  eye  ; 
and  I  am  sure  that  not  one  of  those  letters  would  be  lit  for  that 
eye  unless  it  passed  through  my  own  revisal. 

"Many  eminent  men  have  had  their  literary  reputation  tar- 
nished by  this  injudicious  procedure  of  their  friends.  Thev 
generally  gather  every  scrap  of  written  paper  that  bears  evi- 
dence ol  the  hand  of  the  deceased,  and  without  reflection  or 
discernment  give  to  the  public  what  was  of  no  profit  to  any 
except  to  the  bookseller.  How  much  have  Pope  and  Swift 
suffered  from  this !  and  perhaps  no  man  more  than  the  late 
truly  apostolic  man,  the  Rev.  J.  Fletcher,  of  Madeley.  If  ever 
his  tree  bore  leaves,  instead  of  fruit,  it  was  in  his  religious  cor- 
respondence;  and  these  leafy  productions,  to  the  great  discre 
dit  of  his  good  sense,  have  been  published,  with  a  sinful  cupi 
dity,  over  the  religious  world.  From  this  circumstance,  a 
stranger  to  his  person  has  said :  '  Were  I  to  judge  of  Mr. 
Fletcher  by  his  letters,  and  some  other  little  matters,  publish- 
ed by  his  friends  since  his  death ;  I  must  pronounce  him  a 
well-meaning,  weak  enthusiast.  Were  I  to  judge  of  him 
by  the  works  published  by  himself,  I  must  pronounce  him 


HE  ARRIVES  AT  GUERNSEY.  201 

the  first  polemical  writer  this  or  any  other  age  has  produced : 
a  man  mighty  in  the  Scriptures,  and  full  of  the  unction  of 
God.' » 

But  to  return  ;  Mr.  Brackenbury  shortly  arriving  at  South- 
ampton, they  took  a  Jersey  packet,  and  landed  in  St.  Aubins' 
Bay,  Oct.  26,  1786:  whence  they  walked  to  Mr.  B.'s  house  in 
St.  Hellier's  the  same  evening. 


THE  NORMAN  ISLES. 

These  islands  lie  chiefly  in  St.  Malos'  Bay.  and  are  named 
Guernsey,  Jersey,  Alderney,  Sark,  Jethou,  and  Herme: — they 
are  the  sole  remains  of  the  Gallic  possessions  appertaining  to 
the  British  crown.  They  formerly  belonged  to  Normandy, 
and  came  with  that  dutchy  to  England,  at  the  time  of  the 
conquest  of  this  country  by  William  I.  The  inhabitants  use 
the  French  language,  and  though  under  the  British  crown,  are 
governed  principally  by  their  own  ancient  laws.  But  any 
geographical  or  political  description  of  islands  so  well  known 
and  so  near  home,  would  be  superfluous. 

As  most  of  the  inhabitants  of  St.  Helliers  understand  Eng- 
lish, Mr.  C.  was  at  no  loss  to  besrin  his  work  ;  and,  after  having 
preached  a  few  times  in  St.  Helliers,  it  was  agreed  that  he 
should  go  to  Guernsey;  and  that  Mr.  B.  should  remain  for  the 
present  in  Jersey.  This  was  accordingly  done,  and  having 
obtained  a  large  warehouse  at  a  place  called  Les  Terres,  a 
little  out  of  the  town,  he  began  to  preach  there  in  English  : 
for  the  inhabitants  of  St.  Peters  in  Guernsey  understand  Eng- 
lish as  well  as  those  of  St.  Helliers  in  Jersey.  He  afterwards 
got  some  private  houses  in  different  parts  of  the  town,  where 
he  preached  both  night  and  morning,  through  the  principal 
part  of  the  year. 

Being  now  cut  off  from  all  his  religious  and  literary  ac- 
quaintances ;  and  having  little  or  no  travelling,  except  oc- 
casionally going  from  island  to  island,  he  began  seriously 
to  enter  on  the  cultivation  of  his  mind.  His  Greek  and  Latin 
had  been  long  comparatively  neglected,  and  his  first  care  was 
to  take  up  his  grammars,  and  commence  his  studies  cle  novo. 
When  he  had  recommitted  to  memory  the  necessary  paradigms 
of  the  Greek  verbs,  he  then  took  up  the  first  volume  of  Grabe's 
edition  of  the  Septuagint,  which  was  taken  from  the  Codex 
Alexandrinus,  deposited  in  the  British  Museum ;  a  MS.  in 
uncial  characters,  probably  of  the  fourth  century,  and  which 
formerly  belonged  to  the  patriarchal  church  of  Alexandria, 
and  was  sent  a  present  from  Cyril  Lucaris,  patriarch  of  Con- 
stantinople, to  Charles  II.,  by  Sir  Thomas  Roe.  then  the 


HIS  OPINION  OF  THE  SEPTUAGINT. 


British  Ambassador  at  the  Porte.  When  he  began  this  study, 
he  found  he  had  nearly  every  thing  to  learn  ;  having  almost 
entirely,  through  long  disuse,  forgotten  his  Greek,  though  at 
school  he  had  read  a  part  of  the  Greek  Testament,  and  most 
of  those  works  of  Lucian,  which  are  usually  read  in  schools. 

The  reason  why  he  took  up  the  Septuagint,  was  chiefly  to 
see  how  it  differed  from  the  Hebrew  Text,  of  which  he  had 
gained  considerable  knowledge,  by  the  Hebrew  studies  already 
mentioned.  After  a  little  severe  fagging,  he  conquered  the 
principal  difficulties,  and  found  this  study  not  only  pleasing 
but  profitable.  In  many  respects  he  observed,  that  the  Sep- 
tuagint  cast  much  light  on  the  Hebrew  text ;  and  plainly  saw, 
that  without  the  help  of  this  ancient  Version,  it  would  have 
been  nearly  impossible  to  have  gained  any  proper  knowledge 
of  the  Hebrew  Bible ;  the  Hebrew  language  being  all  lost, 
except  what  remains  in  the  Pentateuch,  prophetical  writings, 
and  some  of  the  historical  books  of  the  Bible.  For,  the  whole 
of  the  Old  Testament  is  not  in  Hebrew,  several  parts  both  of 
Ezra  and  Daniel  being  in  the  Chaldee  language,  besides  one 
verse  in  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  x.  11.  The  Septuagint  ver- 
sion being  made  in  a  time  in  which  the  Hebrew  was  verna- 
cular, about  285  years  before  Christ,  and  in  which  the  Greek 
language  was  well  known  to  the  learned  among  the  Jews : — 
the  translators  of  this  Version,  had  advantages  which  we  do 
not  now  possess;  and  which  can  never  again  be  possessed  by 
man ;  we  must  have  recourse  to  them  for  the  meaning  of  a 
multitude  of  Hebrew  words  which  we  can  have  in  no  other 
way.  And  as  to  the  outcry  against  this  Version,  it  appears  to 
be  made  by  those  who  do  not  understand  the  question,  and  are 
but  slenderly  acquainted  with  the  circumstances  of  the  case. 
The  many  Readings  in  this  Version  which  are  not  now  found 
in  the  Hebrew  text,  we  should  be  cautious  how  we  charge  as 
forgeries  :  the  translators  most  probably  followed  copies  much 
more  correct  than  those  now  extant,  and  which  contained  those 
Readings  which  we  now  charge  on  the  Septuagint,  as  arbi- 
trary variations  from  the  Hebrew  verity.  Indeed  several  ot 
these  very  Readings  have  been  confirmed  by  the  collations  of 
Hebrew  MSS.,  made  by  Dr.  Kennicott,  at  home,  and  De  Rossi, 
abroad. 

He  continued  these  studies  till  he  had  read  the  Septuagint 
through  to  the  end  of  the  Psalms  ;  generally  noting  down  the 
most  important  differences  between  this  Version  and  the  He- 
brew text,  and  entered  them  in  the  margin  of  a  4to.  Bible  in 
three  vols.,  which  was  afterwards  unfortunately  lost.  At  this 
time  his  stock  of  books  was  very  small,  and  having  no  living 
teacher,  he  laboured  under  many  disadvantages.  But  when, 
in  the  course  of  his  changing  for  the  alternate  supply  of  the 
societies  in  the  Islands,  he  visited  the  Island  of  Jersey,  he  had 
much  assistance  from  the  public  library  in  St.  Helliers.  This 


SCRIPTURAL  CRITICISM. 


208 


contained  a  large  collection  of  excellent  books,  which  was  be- 
queathed for  the  use  of  the  public  by  the  Rev.  Philip  Falle,  one 
of  the  ministers  of  the  Island,  and  its  most  correct  historian. 
Here,  for  the  first  time,  he  had  the  use  of  a  Polyglott  Bible, 
that  of  Bishop  Walton.  The  Prolegomena  to  the  first  vol.  he 
carefully  studied,  and  from  the  account  contained  there  of  the 
ancient  Versions,  particularly  the  Oriental,  he  soon  discovered 
that  some  acquaintance  with  these,  especially  the  Syriac  and 
Chaldee,  would  be  of  great  use  to  him  in  his  Biblical  re- 
searches. 

With  the  history  and  importance  of  the  Scptuagint  version, 
he  was  pretty  well  acquainted  ;  and  also,  with  those  of  the 
Vulgate.  Dean  Prideaux's  Connections  had  given  him  an 
accurate  view  of  the  Chaldee  version,  or  Targums  of  Onke- 
los  on  the  Law,  and  Jonathan  Ben  Uzziel  on  the  Prophets. 
To  read  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch,  he  had  only  to  learn  the 
Samaritan  alphabet:  the  Hebrew  text  and  the  Samaritan  be- 
ing exactly  the  same  as  to  language,  though  the  latter  pre- 
serves a  much  fuller  account  of  the  different  transactions 
recorded  by  Moses ;  writes  the  words  more  fully,  giving  the 
essential  vowels,  which  in  multitudes  of  places,  are  supplied 
in  the  Hebrew  text,  only  by  the  Masoretic  points ;  and  be- 
sides, this  Text  contains  many  important  variations  in  the 
chronology.  The  Samaritan  version,  which  was  made  from 
this,  is  in  the  same  character,  contains  the  same  matter,  but  is 
in  a  different  dialect,  not  to  say  language.  It  is  Chaldee  in  its 
basis,  with  the  admixture  of  many  words,  supposed  to  be  of 
Cuthic  origin. 

Having  met  with  a  copy  of  Walton's  Fntroductio  ad,  Lin- 
gua* Orientates,  he  applied  himself  closely  to  the  study  of 
the  Syriac,  as  far  as  it  is  treated  of  in  that  little  manual ;  and 
translated  and  wrote  out  the  whole  into  English,  which  he 
afterwards  enlarged  much  from  the  Schola,  Syriaca,  of  Pro- 
fessor Le.usden.  By  the  time  he  had  finished  this  work,  he 
found  himself  capable  of  consulting  any  text,  in  the  Syriac 
version ;  and  thus  the  use  of  the  Polyglott  became  much 
more  extensive  to  him  ;  and  all  the  time  that  he  could  spare 
from  the  more  immediate  duties  of  his  ofhce?  he  spent  in  the 
public  library,  reading  and  collating  the  original  Texts  in  the 
Polyglott,  particularly  the  Hebrew,  Samaritan,  Chaldee,  Sy- 
"iac,  Vulgate}  and  Scptuagint.  The  Arabic,  Persian,  and 
Kthiopic  he  did  not  attempt — despairing  to  make  any  improve- 
nent  in  i  hose  languages,  without  a  preceptor.  A  circumstance 
tere,  deserves  to  be  noticed,  which  to  him,  appeared  a  particular 
nterference  of  Divine  Providence  :  of  it  the  Reader  will  form 
nis  own  estimate.  Knowing  that  he  could  not  always  enjoy 
ihe  benefit  of  (he  Polyglott  in  the  public  library,  he  began 
earnestly  to  wish  to  have  a  copy  of  his  own :  but  three  pounds 
per  quarter,  and  his  food,  which  was  the  whole  of  his  income 


204 


MR.  WESLEY  VISITS  THE  NOUMAN  ISLES. 


as  a  preacher,  could  ill  supply  any  sum  for  the  purchase  of 
books.  Believing  that  it  was  the  will  of  God,  that  he  should 
cultivate  his  mind  in  Biblical  knowledge,  both  on  his  own  ac- 
count, and  on  that  of  the  people  to  whom  he  ministered  ;  and 
believing  that  to  him,  the  original  texts  were  necessary  for  this 
purpose  ;  and  finding  that  he  could  not  hope  to  possess  money 
sufficient  to  make  such  a  purchase,  he  thought  that  in  the 
course  of  God's  Prov  idence,  He  would  furnish  him  with  this 
precious  gift.  He  acquired  a  strong  confidence  that  by  some 
means  or  other,  he  should  get  a  Polyglott.  One  morning,  a 
preacher's  wife  who  lodged  in  the  same  family,  said,  "  Mr. 

C,  I  had  a  strange  dream  last  night."    "  What  was  it,  Mrs. 

D.  ,"  said  he  1  "  Why,  I  dreamed  that  some  person,  I  know 
not  who,  had  made  you  a  present  of  a  Polyglott  Bible."  He 
answered,  "  That  I  shall  get  a  Polyglott  soon,  I  have  no 
doubt,  but  how,  or  by  whom,  I  know  not." — In  the  course  of  a 
day  or  two,  he  received  a  letter  containing  a  bank-note  of  10/. 
from  a  person  from  whom  he  never  expected  any  thing  of  the 
kind  :  he  immediately  exclaimed,  here  is  the  Polyglott  ! — He 
laid  by  the  cash,  wrote  to  a  friend  in  London,  who  procured 
him  a  tolerably  good  copy  of  Walton's  Polyglott,  the  price 
exactly  10L 

The  Reader  will  not  have  forgotten  the  most  remarkable 
circumstance  of  his  obtaining  the  money  by  which  he  pur- 
chased a  Hebrew  Grammur.  These  two  providential  circum- 
stances, were  the  only  foundation  of  all  the  knowledge  he 
afterwards  acquired  either  in  Oriental  learning,  or  Biblical 
Literature.  In  obtaining  both  these  works,  he  saw  the  hand 
of  God,  and  this  became  a  powerful  inducement  to  him,  to 
give  all  diligence  to  acquire,  and  fidelity  to  use  that  knowledge 
which  came  to  him  through  means  utterly  out  of  his  own 
reach,  and  so  distinctly  marked  to  his  apprehension  by  the 
especial  Providence  of  God.  He  continued  in  the  Norman 
Islands  three  years,  labouring  incessantly  for  the  good  of  the 
people  who  heard  him,  though  by  the  abundance  of  his 
labours,  and  intense  study,  he  greatly  impaired  his  health. 

In  the  year  1787,  the  Rev.  J.  Wesley,  accompanied  by 
Thomas  Coke,  LL.  D.,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Bradford,  visited  the 
Norman  Islands ;  where  he  was  well  received,  and  preached 
to  many  large  congregations  both  in  Jersey  and  Guernsey. 
While  in  Jersey,  he  lodged  at  the  house  of  Robert  Carr 
Brackenbury,  Esq.,  who  has  been  already  mentioned :  and 
when  in  Guernsey,  at  Mon  Plaisir,  the  house  of  Henry  De 
Jersey,  Esq.,  under  whose  hospitable  roof  Mr.  C.  had  lodged 
for  more  than  a  year,  and  was  treated  by  all  the  family  as  if 
he  had  been  their  own  child.  There  was  no  love  lost,  as  he 
felt  for  them  that  affection  which  subsists  between  members 
of  the  same  family. 

Mr.  Wesley's  time  allotted  for  his  visit  to  these  Islands  being 


MR.  WESLEY. 


263 


expired,  lie  purposed  sailing  for  Southampton  by  the  first  fair 
wind,  as  he  had  appointed  to  be  at  Bristol  on  a  particular  day  : 
but  the  wind  continuing  adverse,  and  an  English  brig  touching 
at  Guernsey  on  her  way  from  France  to  Penzance,  they  agreed 
for  their  passage,  Mr.  C.  having  obtained  Mr.  Wesley's  per- 
mission to  accompany  them  to  England.  They  sailed  out  of 
Guernsey  Road  on  Thursday,  September  6,  with  a  fine  fair 
breeze ;  but  in  a  short  time,  the  wind  which  had  continued 
slackening,  died  away,  and  afterwards  rose  up  in  that  quarter 
which  would  have  favoured  the  passage  to  Southampton  or 
Weymouth,  had  they  been  so  bound.  The  contrary  wind 
blew  into  a  tight  breeze,  and  they  were  obliged  to  make  fre- 
quent tacks,  in  order  to  clear  the  Island.  Mr.  W.  was  sitting 
reading  in  the  cabin,  and  hearing  the  noise  and  bustle  which 
were  occasioned  by  putting  about  the  vessel,  to  stand  on  her 
different  tacks,  he  put  his  head  above  deck  and  inquired  what 
was  the  matter  ?  Being  told  the  wind  was  become  contrary, 
and  the  ship  was  obliged  to  tack,  he  said,  Then  let  us  go  to 
prayer.  His  own  company,  who  were  upon  deck,  walked 
down,  and  at  his  request  Dr.  Coke,  Mr.  Bradford,  and  Mr. 
Clarke,  went  to  prayer.  After  the  latter  had  ended,  Mr.  W. 
broke  out  into  fervent  supplication,  which  seemed  to  be  more 
the  offspring  of  strong  Jaith  than  of  mere  desire,  his  words 
were  remarkable,  as  well  as  the  spirit,  evident  feeling,  and 
manner,  in  which  they  were  uttered :  some  of  them  were  to 
the  following  effect :  "  Almighty  and  everlasting  God,  thou 
hast  way  every  where,  and  all  things  serve  the  purposes  of 
thy  will :  thou  boldest  the  winds  in  thy  fist,  and  sittest  upon 
the  water  floods,  and  reignest  a  King  for  ever: — command 
these  winds  and  these  waves  that  they  obey  thee  ;  and  take 
us  speedily  and  safely  to  the  haven  whither  we  would  be,  &c. !" 
The  power  of  his  petition  was  felt  by  all: — he  rose  from  his 
knees,  made  no  kind  of  remark,  but  took  up  his  book  and  con- 
tinued his  reading.  Mr.  C.  went  upon  deck,  and  what  was 
his  surprise  when  he  found  the  vessel  standing  her  right 
course,  with  a  steady  breeze,  which  slacked  not,  till,  carrying 
them  at  the  rate  of  nine  or  ten  knots  an  hour,  they  anchored 
safely  near  St.  Michael's  Mount,  in  Penzance  Bay.  On  the 
sudden  and  favourable  change  of  the  wind,  Mr.  W.  made  no 
remark :  so  fully  did  he  expect  to  be  heard,  that  he  took  for 
granted  he  was  heard.  Such  answers  to  prayer  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  receiving ;  and  therefore  to  him,  the  occurrence  was 
not  strange. — Of  such  a  circumstance  how  many  of  those  who 
did  not.  enter  into  his  views,  would  have  descanted  at  large, 
had  it  happened  in  favour  of  themselves ;  yet  all  the  notice  he 
takes  of  this  singular  circumstance  is  contained  in  the  follow- 
ing entry  in  his  Journal  ■ — 


;<  In  the  morning.  Thursday,  (Sept.  6th.  1787.)  we  went  on 


206 


nnas  MAKY  COOKE. 


board  with  a  fair  moderate  wind.  But  we  had  but  just  entered 
the  ship  when  the  wind  died  away.  We  cried  to  God  for 
help :  and  it  presently  sprung  up,  exactly  fair,  and  did  not 
cease  till  it  brought  us  into  Penzance  Bay." 

Mr.  Wesley  was  no  ordinary  man :  every  hour,  every  minute 
of  his  time  was  devoted  to  the  great  work  which  God  had 
given  him  to  do  ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he  was 
favoured,  and  indeed  accredited,  with  many  signal  interpo- 
sitions of  Divine  Providence.  Mr.  Clarke  himself  has  con- 
fessed that  high  as  his  opinion  was  of  Mr.  W.'s  piety  and 
faith,  he  had  no  hope  that  the  wind  which  had  long  sat 
in  the  opposite  quarter,  and  which  had  just  now  changed  in  a 
very  natural  way,  would  immediately  veer  about,  except  by 
providential  interference,  to  blow  in  a  contrary  direction. 
There  were  too  many  marked  extraordinary  circumstances  in 
this  case,  to  permit  any  attentive  observer  to  suppose  that 
the  change  had  been  effected  by  any  natural  or  casual  oc- 
currence. 

As  Mr.  W.'s  appearance  in  that  part  of  England  was  totally 
unexpected,  (having  formed  his  route  to  Bristol,)  it  was  neces- 
sary to  announce  it.  Mr.  Clarke,  therefore,  a  few  hours  after 
his  landing,  took  horse  and  rode  to  Redruth,  Truro,  St.  Austell, 
and  Plymouth  Dock,  preaching  in  each  place,  and  announcing 
Mr.  W.  for  the  following  evening,  all  the  company  meeting  at 
Plymouth  Dock,  on  Tuesday  10,  they  proceeded  to  Exeter,  the 
next  day  ;  and  on  Friday  13th,  they  took  the  mail-coach,  and 
in  the  evening  arrived  safely  at  Bath ;  where  having  tarried 
till  the  following  Monday,  Mr.  W.  proceeded  to  Bristol,  and 
Mr.  Clarke  to  Trowbridge,  in  Wilts,  where  the  lady  resided, 
to  whom,  in  the  course  of  the  next  year,  he  was  married. 

Miss  Mary  Cooke,  the  lady  in  question,  was  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Mr.  John  Cooke,  clothier,  of  Trowbridge,  well 
educated,  of  a  fine  natural  disposition,  deep  piety,  and  sound 
judgment.  They  had  been  acquainted  for  several  years,  and 
their  attachment  to  each  other  was  formed  on  the  purest  prin- 
ciples of  reason  and  religion,  and  was  consolidated  with  that 
affection  which,  where  the  natural  dispositions  are  properly 
suited,  will  never  permit  the  married  life  to  be  a  burden  ;  but 
on  the  contrary,  the  most  powerful  help  to  mental  cultivation 
and  the  growth  of  genuine  piety.  In  such  cases,  love  and 
affection  will  be  infallibly  ripened  and  mellowed  into  genuine 
friendship,  esteem,  respect,  and  reverence.  The  yoke  of  the 
conjugal  life  becomes,  as  its  name  imports,  an  equal  yoke — 
the  husband  and  wife  are  both  in  the  harness,  and  each  party 
bears  its  proportional  share  of  the  burden  of  domestic  life  c 
and  in  such  a  case,  it  may  be  most  truly  said,  The  yoke  is 
easy,  and  the  burden  is  light. 

The  connexion  ln-tween  Mr.  C.  and  Miss  Cooke  was  too- 


HIS  MARRIAGE. 


good  and  holy  not  to  be  opposed.  Some  of  her  friends  supposed 
they  should  be  degraded  by  her  alliance  with  a  Methodist 
preacher,  but  pretended  to  cover  their  unprincipled  opposition 
with  the  veil,  that  one  so  delicately  bred  up,  would  not  be  able 
to  bear  the  troubles  and  privations  of  a  Methodist  preacher's 
life.  These  persons  so  prejudiced  Mr.  Wesley;  himself,  that 
he  threatened  to  put  Mr.  C.  out  of  the  Connexion  if  he  mar- 
ried Miss  C.  without  her  mother's  approbation  ! 

Finding  that  Mr.  W.  was  deceived  by  false  representations, 
noth  Mr.  C.  and  Miss  Cooke  laid  before  him  a  plain  and  full 
state  of  the  case:  he  heard  also  the  opposite  party,  who  were 
at  last  reduced  to  acknowledge,  that  in  this  connexion,  every- 
thing was  proper  and  Christian  ;  and  all  would  be  well,  should 
the  mother  consent ;  but  if  a  marriage  should  take  place  with- 
out this,  it  would  be  a  breach  of  the  third  commandment,  and 
be  a  great  cause  of  offence  among  the  people  who  feared  God. 
As  to  Mrs.  C.  herself,  she  grounded  her  opposition  solely  on 
the  principle  that  her  daughter  would  be  exposed  to  destruc- 
tive hardships  in  the  itinerant  life  of  a  Methodist  preacher ; 
acknowledging  that  she  had  no  objection  to  Mr.  C,  whom  for 
his  good  sense  and  learning,  she  highly  esteemed. 

Mr.  Wesley,  like  a  tender  parent,  interposed  his  good  offices 
to  bring  these  matters  to  an  accommodation — made  those  who 
were  called  Methodists  ashamed  of  the  part  they  had  taken  in 
this  business,  and  wrote  a  friendly  letter  to  Mrs.  C.  The  op 
position,  which  had  arisen  to  a  species  of  persecution,  now 
began  to  relax  ;  and  as  the  hostile  party  chose  at  least  to  sleep 
on  their  arms,  after  waiting  about  a  year  longer,  Mr.  Clarke 
and  Miss  Cooke  were  married  in  Trowbridge  church,  April 
17,  1788;  and  in  about,  a  week  afterwards  sailed  to  the  Nor- 
man Islands.  Few  connexions  of  this  kind,  were  ever  more 
opposed  ;  and  few,  if  any,  were  ever  more  happy.  The  stea- 
diness of  the  parties,  during  this  opposition,  endeared  them 
to  each  other:  they  believed  that  God  had  joined  them  toge 
ther,  and  no  storm  or  difficulty  in  life  was  able  to  put  them 
asunder.  If  their  principal  opponents  have  acted  a  more  con 
sistent  part,  it  is  the  better  for  themselves;  however  they  have 
lived  long  enough  to  know  that  they  meddled  with  what  did 
not  concern  them  ;  and  Mrs.  Cooke,  many  years  before  her 
death,  saw  that  she  had  been  imposed  on  and  deceived  ;  and 
that  this  marriage  was  one  of  the  most  happy  in  her  family, 
in  which  there  were  some  of  the  most  respectable  connexions  ; 
— one  daughter  having  married  that  most  excellent  man,  Jo- 
seph Buttcrworth,  Esq.  M.P.,  a  pattern  of  practical  Christian- 
ity, a  true  friend  to  the  genuine  church  of  God,  and  a  pillar  in 
the  state:  and  another  was  married  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Thomas, 
Rector  of  Begally,  in  South  Wales,  an  amiable  and  truly  pi- 
ous man.  Mr.  Clarke's  marriage  was  crowned  with  a  numer- 
ous progeny,  six  sons,  and  six  daughters;  of  whom  three  sons 


•208 


PERSECUTIONS. 


and  three  daughters  died  young,  and  three  sons  and  three 
daughters  have  arrived  at  mature  age,  and  are  most  respectably 
and  comfortably  settled  in  life.  I  have  judged  it  necessary  to 
introduce  these  particulars  here,  though  out  of  their  chronodo- 
gical  order,  lest  they  should  afterwards  disturb  the  thread  of 
the  narrative. 

During  his  stay  in  the  Norman  Isles  he  met  with  much  per- 
secution from  that  part  of  the  people  for  whose  salvation  he 
laboured  most.  One  Sabbath  morning,  accompanied  by  cap- 
tain and  lieutenant  W.  and  Mr.  Wm.  S.,  having  gone  to 
preach  at  La  Valle,  a  low  part  of  the  island  of  Guernsey,  al- 
ways surrounded  by  the  sea  at  high  water,  to  which  at  such 
times  there  is  no  access  but  by  means  of  a  sort  of  causeway, 
called  the  bridge  ;  a  multitude  of  unruly  people  with  drums, 
horns,  and  various  offensive  weapons,  assembled  at  the  bridge 
to  prevent  his  entering  this  islet.  The  tide  being  a  little  out, 
he  ventured  to  ride  across  about  a  mile  below  the  bridge,  with- 
out their  perceiving  him,  got  to  the  house  and  had  nearly 
finished  his  discourse  before  the  mob  could  assemble.  At  last 
they  came  in  full  power,  and  with  fell  purpose.  The  captain 
of  a  man  of  war,  and  the  naval  lieutenant,  and  the  other  gen- 
tleman, who  had  accompanied  him,  mounted  their  horses  and 
rode  off  at  full  gallop,  leaving  him  in  the  hands  of  the  mob ! 
That  he  might  not  be  able  so  to  escape,  they  cut  his  bridle  in 
pieces.  Nothing  intimidated,  he  went  among  them,  got  upon 
an  eminence  and  began  to  speak  to  them.  The  drums  and 
horns  ceased,  the  majority  of  the  mob  became  quiet  and  peace- 
able, only  a  few  from  the  outskirts,  throwing  stones  and  dirt, 
which  he  dexterously  evaded  by  various  inclinations  of  his 
head  and  body,  so  that  he  escaped  all  hurt,  and  after  about  an 
hour,  they  permitted  him  to  mend  his  bridle,  and  depart  in 
peace.  On  his  return  to  St.  Peters,  he  found  his  naval  he- 
roes in  great  safety,  who  seem  to  have  acted  on  the  old 
proverb, 

"  He  that  rights  and  runs  away, 
May  live  to  fight  another  day." 

He  had  a  more  narrow  escape  for  his  life,  one  evening,  at 
St.  Aubin's  in  the  island  of  Jersey.  A  desperate  mob  of  some 
hundreds,  with  almost  all  common  instruments  of  destruction, 
assembled  round  the  house  in  which  he  was  preaching,  which 
was  a  wooden  building,  with  five  windows.  At  their  first  ap- 
proach, a  principal  part  of  the  congregation  issued  forth,  and 
provided  for  their  own  safety.  The  Society  alone,  about  thir- 
teen persons,  remained  with  their  preacher.  The  mob  find- 
ing that  all  with  whom  they  might  claim  brotherhood  had  es- 
caped, formed  the  dreadful  resolution  to  pull  down  the  house, 
and  bury  the  preacher  and  his  friends  in  the  ruins  !  Mr.  C. 
continued  to  address  the  people,  exhorting  them  to  trust  in 


PEBEECDTIONS. 


900 


that  God  who  was  able  to  save ;  one  of  the  mob  present- 
ed a  pistol  at  him  through  the  window  opposite  to  the  pulpit, 
which  twice  flashed  in  the  pan.  Others  had  got  crows,  and 
were  busily  employed  in  sapping  the  foundation  of  the  house  : 
Mr.  C.  perceiving  this,  said  to  the  people,  "  If  we  stay  here, 
we  shall  all  be  destroyed :  I  will  go  out  among  them,  they 
seek  not  you  but  me:  after  they  have  got  me,  they  will  per- 
mit you  to  pass  unmolested.'1  They  besought  him  with  tears 
not  to  leave  the  house,  as  he  would  be  infallibly  murdered.  He, 
seeing  lhat  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  as  they  continued  to 
sap  the  foundations  of  the  house,  said,  "I  will  instantly  go 
out  among  them,  in  the  name  of  God."  Je  vou.i  accompagne- 
rai,  "  I  will  accompany  you,"  said  a  stout  young  man.  As  the 
house  was  assailed  with  showers  of  stones,  he  met  a  volley  of 
these  as  he  opened  and  passed  through  the  door ;  it  was  a  clear 
full-moon  night,  the  clouds  having  dispersed  afier  a  previously 
heavy  storm  of  hail  and  rain.  He  walked  forward, — the  mob 
divided  to  the  right  and  left,  and  made  an  ample  passage  for 
him  and  the  young  man  who  followed  him,  to  pass  through. 
This  they  did  to  the  very  uttermost  skirts  of  the  hundreds 
who  were  there  assembled,  with  drums,  horns,  fifes,  spades, 
forks,  bludgeons,  &c.  to  take  the  life  of  a  man  whose  only 
crime  was,  proclaiming  to  lost  sinners  redemption  through 
the  blood  of  the  cross.  During  the  whole  time  of  his  passing 
through  the  mob,  there  was  a  death-like  silence,  nor  was  there 
any  motion,  but  that  which  was  necessary  to  give  him  a  free 
passage  !  Either  their  eyes  were  holden  that  they  could  not 
know  him  ;  or  they  were  so  overawed  by  the  power  of  God, 
that  they  could  not  lift  a  hand,  or  utter  a  word  against  him. 
The  poor  people  finding  all  was  quiet,  came  out  a  little  after, 
and  passed  away,  not  one  of  them  being  either  hurt  or  mo- 
lested !  In  a  few  minutes  the  mob  seemed  to  awake  as  from 
a  dream,  and  finding  that  their  prey  had  been  plucked  out  of 
their  teeth,  they  knew  not  how ;  attacked  the  house  afresh, 
broke  every  square  of  glass  in  all  the  windows,  and  scarcely 
left  a  whole  tile  upon  the  roof. 

He  afterwards  learnt  that  the  design  of  the  mob  was  to  put 
him  in  the  sluice  of  an  overshot  water-mill ;  by  which  he 
must  necessarily  have  been  crushed  to  pieces.* 

♦  In  the  following  note  in  Dr.  Clarke's  Commentary,  on  Luke  iv. 
30.,  he  gives  a  very  admirable  account  of  this  same  transaction  :  what 
is  here  related  of''  A  missionary  who  had  been  sent  to  a  strange  land," 
&c,  is  a  fact  of  Dr.  Clarke  himself. 

"  The  following  relation  of  a  fact  presents  a  scene  something  simi- 
lar to  what  I  suppose  passed  on  this  occasion:— A  missionary,  who 
had  been  sent  to  a  strange  land  to  proclaim  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom 
of  God,  and  who  had  passed  through  many  hardships,  and  was  often 
in  danger  of  losing  his  life,  through  the  persecutions  excited  against 
him,  came  to  a  place  where  he  had  often  before,  at  no  small  risk, 


210 


PERSECUTIONS. 


The  next  Lord's-day  he  went  to  the  same  place :  the  mob 
rose  again,  and  when  they  began  to  make  a  tumult,  he  called 
on  them  to  hear  him  for  a  few  moments  ;  those  who  appeared 
to  have  most  influence,  grew  silent  and  stilled  the  rest.  He 
spoke  to  them  to  this  effect. — "  I  have  never  done  any  of  you 
harm  ;  my  heartiest  wish  was,  and  is,  to  do  you  good.    I  could 

preached  Christ  crucified.  About  fifty  people,  who  had  received  good 
impressions  from  the  word  of  God,  assembled.  He  began  his  dis- 
course ;  and  after  he  had  preached  about  thirty  minutes,  an  outrage- 
ous mob  surrounded  the  house,  armed  with  different  instruments  of 
death,  and  breathing  the  most  sanguinary  purposes.  Some  that  were 
within,  shut  to  the  door ;  and  the  missionary  and  his  flock  betook 
themselves  to  prayer.  The  mob  assailed  the  house,  and  began  to 
hurl  stones  against  the  walls,  windows,  and  roof;  and  in  a  short  time 
almost  every  tile  was  destroyed,  and  the  roof  nearly  uncovered,  and 
before  they  quitted  the  premises,  scarcely  left  one  square  inch  of  glass 
in  the  five  windows  by  which  the  house  was  enlightened.  Whde  this 
was  going  forward,  a  person  came  with  a  pistol  to  the  window  oppo- 
site to  the  place  where  the  preacher  stood,  (who  was  then  exhorting 
his  flock  to  be  steady,  to  resign  themselves  to  God,  and  trust  in  Him,) 
presented  it  at  him,  and  snapped  it,  but  it  only  flashed  in  the  pan  ! 
As  the  house  was  a  wooden  building,  they  began  with  crows  and 
spades  to  undermine  it,  and  take  away  its  principal  supports.  The 
preacher  then  addressed  his  little  flock  to  this  effect: — '  These  out- 
rageous people  seek  not  you,  but  me  •  if  1  continue  in  the  house  they 
will  soon  pull  it  down,  and  we  shall  all  be  buried  in  the  ruins ;  I  will 
therefore,  in  the  name  of  God,  go  out  to  them,  and  you  will  be  safe.' 
He  then  went  towards  the  door :  the  poor  people  got  round  him,  anrl 
entreated  him  not  to  venture  out,  as  he  might  expect  to  be  instantly 
massacred.  He  went  calmly  forward,  opened  the  door,  at  which  a 
whole  volley  of  stones  and  dirt  was  that  instant  discharged  ;  but  he 
received  no  damage.  The  people  were  in  crowds  in  all  the  space  be- 
fore, the  door,  and  filled  the  road  for  a  considerable  way,  so  that  there 
was  no  room  to  pass  or  repass.  As  soon  as  the  preacher  made  his 
appearance,  the  savages  became  instantly  as  silent  and  as  still  as 
night:  he  walked  forward,  and  they  divided  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left,  leaving  a  passage  of  about  four  feet  wide,  for  himself,  and  a 
young  man  who  followed  him,  to  walk  in.  He  passed  on  through 
the  whole  crowd,  not  a  soul  of  whom  either  lifted  a  hand,  or  spoke 
one  word,  till  he  and  his  companion  had  gained  the  uttermost  skirts 
of  the  mob  !  The  narrator,  who  was  present  on  the  occasion,  goes 
on  to  say : — '  This  was  one  of  the  most  affecting  spectacles  I  ever  wit- 
nessed ;  an  infuriated  mob,  without  any  visible  cause,  (for  the  preacher 
spoke  not  one  word,)  became  in  a  moment  as  calm  as  lambs !  They 
.seemed  struck  with  amazement  bordering  on  stupefaction ;  they  stared 
and  stood  speechless ;  and  after  they  had  fallen  back  to  right  and  left 
to  leave  him  a  free  passage,  they  were  as  motionless  as  statues! 
They  assembled  with  the  full  purpose  to  destroy  the  man  who  came 
to  shew  them  the  way  of  salvation ;  but  lie  passing  through  the  midst 
of  them,  went  his  way.  Was  not  the  God  of  missionaries  in  this  work  1 
The  next  Lord's-day,  the  missionary  went  to  the  same  place,  and 
again  proclaimed  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the 
world  I1  " 


PKB8BC0TKHIS. 


211 


tell  yon  many  things  hy  which  you  might  grow  wise  unto 
salvation,  would  you  but  listen  to  them.  Why  do  you  perse- 
cute a  man  who  never  can  be  your  enemy,  and  wishes  to  shew 
that  he  is  your  friend.  You  cannot  be  Christians,  who  seek 
to  destroy  a  man  because  he  tells  you  the  truth.  But  are  you 
even  men  ?  Do  you  deserve  that  name  ?  I  am  but  an  indi- 
vidual and  unarmed,  and  scores  and  hundreds  of  you  join 
together  to  attack  and  destroy  this  single,  unarmed  man ! 
Is  not  this  to  act  like  cowards  and  assassins  ?  I  am  a  man 
and  a  Christian.  I  fear  you  not  as  a  man, — I  would  not  turn 
my  back  upon  the  best  of  you,  and  could  probably  put  your 
chief  under  my  feet.  St.  Paul,  the  Apostle,  was  assailed  in 
like  manner  by  the  heathens;  they  also  were  dastards  and 
cowards.  The  Scripture  does  not  call  them  men,  but,  ac- 
cording to  the  English  translation,  certain  lewd  fellows  of  the 
baser  sort,  or  according  to  your  own,  which  you  better  under- 
stand, Les  batteurs  de  pave — La  canaille.  O  shame  on  you. 
to  come  in  multitudes,  to  attack  an  inoffensive  stranger  in  your 
island,  who  comes  only  to  call  you  from  wickedness  to  serve 
the  living  God,  and  to  shew  you  the  way  which  will  at  last 
lead  you  to  everlasting  blessedness !"  He  paused,  there  was 
a  shout,  He  is  a  clever  fellow,  he  shall  preach,  and  ice  icill 
hear  him!  They  were  as  good  as  their  word;  he  proceeded 
without  any  farther  hinderance  from  them,  and  they  never  after 
gave  him  any  molestation ! 

The  little  preaching-house  being  nearly  destroyed,  he,  some 
Sabbaths  afterwards,  attempted  to  preach  out  of  doors.  The 
mob  having  given  up  persecution,  one  of  the  ■magistrates  of 
St.  Aubin,  whose  name  should  be  handed  down  to  everlasting 
fame,  took  up  the  business,  came  to  the  place,  with  a  mob  of 
his  own,  and  the  drummer  of  the  regiment,  belonging  to  that 
place,  pulled  him  down  while  he  was  at  prayer,  and  delivered 
him  into  the  hands  of  that  canaille  of  which  he  was  the 
head  ;  the  drummer  attended  him  out  of  the  town  beating  the 
Rogues^  March  on  his  drum  ;  and  beating  Mm  frequently  with 
the  drum  sticks ;  from  whose  strokes  and  other  misusage  he 
did  not  recover  for  some  weeks.  But  he  wearied  out  all  his 
persecutors, — there  were  several  who  heard  the  word  gladly  ; 
and  for  their  sakes  he  freely  ventured  himself  till  at  last  all 
opposition  totally  ceased. 

Another  escape,  though  of  a  different  kind,  should  not  be 
unnoticed.  The  winter  of  1788,  was  unusually  severe  in  the 
Norman  Islands,  as  well  as  in  most  other  places.  There  were 
large  falls  of  snow  which  had  drifted  into  great  wreathes, 
which  made  travelling  in  the  country  very  dangerous.  Hav- 
ing appointed  to  preach  one  evening,  in  the  beginning  of  Jan- 
uary, at  St.  Aubin,  the  place  mentioned  above ;  he  went  to 
the  town  in  company  with  the  same  young  man  who  followed 
him  out  of  the  preaching-house,  when  he  had  so  miraculous 


212  SOPORIFIC  EFFECTS  OF  INTENSE  COLD. 

an  escape  from  the  mob ;  hut  because  of  the  snow  they  were 
obliged  to  follow  the  sea-mark  all  the  way  along  the  bay  of 
St.  Aubin.  When  they  arrived  at  the  town  he  was  nearly  be- 
numbed with  the  cold,  and  with  fatigue;  as  it  had  blown  hard 
with  snow  and  sleet,  and  they  were  very  wet,  being  obliged 
often  to  walk  in  the  sea-water,  to  keep  out  of  the  drifts  that 
lay  on  the  sands.  He  preached,  but  was  almost  totally  ex- 
hausted. He  was  obliged  to  return  to  St.  Helliers,  which  by 
the  water  mark  along  the  bay,  must  have  been  between  four 
and  five  miles: — much  snow  had  fallen  during  the  preaching, 
and  the  night  became  worse  and  worse.  He  set  out,  having 
had  no  kind  of  refreshment,  and  began  to  plod  his  way  with 
faint  and  unsteady  steps :  at  last  a  drowsiness,  often  the  effect 
of  intense  cold  when  the  principle  of  heat  is  almost  entirely- 
abstracted,  fell  upon  him.  He  said  to  the  young  man,  "  Frank, 
I  can  go  no  farther,  till  I  get  a  little  sleep — let  me  lie  down  a 
few  minutes  on  one  of  these  snow  drifts,  and  then  I  shall  gel 
strength  to  go  on." — Frank  expostulated, — "O  Sir,  you  must 
not: — were  you  to  lie  down  but  a  minute,  you  would  never 
rise  more. — Do  not  fear,  hold  by  me,  and  I  will  drag  you  on, 
and  we  shall  soon  get  to  St.  Helliers."  He  answered,  "  Frank, 
I  cannot  proceed, — I  am  only  sleepy,  and  even  two  minutes 
will  refresh  me;" — and  he  attempted  to  throw  himself  upon  a 
snow  drift,  which  appeared  to  him  with  higher  charms  than 
the  finest  bed  of  down.  Francis  was  then  obliged  to  interpose 
ihe  authority  of  his  strength — pulled  him  up,  and  continued 
dragging  and  encouraging  him,  till  with  great  labour  and  dif- 
ficulty he  brought  him  to  St.  Helliers. 

It  is  well  known  that  by  intense  cold,  when  long  continued 
the  powers  of  the  whole  nervous  system  become  weakened  ; 
a  torpor  of  the  animal  functions  ensues  ;  the  action  of  the 
muscles  is  feeble,  and  scarcely  obedient  to  the  will;  an  uncon~ 
querable  languor  and  indisposition  to  motionsucceeds  ;  and  a 
gradual  exhaustion  of  the  nervous  power  shews  itself  in  drmv- 
siness,  which  terminates  in  sleep,  from  which  the  person, 
unless  speedily  aroused,  awakes  no  more. — This  was  precisely 
Mr.  C.'s  slate  at  the  time  above  mentioned  ;  and  had  not  his 
friend  been  resolute,  as  well  as  strong,  but  suffered  him  to  lie 
down  in  his  then  exhausted  slate,  less  than  five  minutes  would 
have  terminated  his  mortal  existence. 

The  reader  will  perhaps  recollect  the  account  given  in  Capt 
Cook's  Voyages,  of  eleven  persons,  among  whom  were  Sii 
Joseph  Banks,  and  Dr.  Solander,  who  went  among  the  hill? 
of  Terra  del.  Fuego,  on  a  botanizing  excursion,  in  January 
1769 ;  who,  being  overtaken  with  darkness,  were  obliged  t< 
spend  the  night  on  the  hills,  during  extreme  cold.  Dr.  Solan 
der,  who  had  more  than  once  crossed  the  mountains  whicl 
divide  Sweden  from  Norway,  well  knew  that  extreme  cold 
especially  when  joined  to  fatigue,  produces  a  torpor  and  sleepi 


SOPORIFIC  EFFECTS  OF  INTENSE  COM). 


213 


ness  which  are  almost  irresistible  ;  he  therefore  conjured  the 
company  to  keep  moving,  whatever  pains  it  might  cost  them, 
and  whatever  relief  they  might  be  promised  by  an  inclination 
to  rest;  for,  said  he,  "Whoever  sits  down  will  sleep;  and 
whoever  sleeps  will  wake  no  more." — While  they  were  on  the 
naked  rocks,  before  they  could  get  among  the  bushes,  the  cold 
became  so  intense  as  to  produce  the  effects  that  had  been  most 
dreaded.  Dr.  Solander  was  the  first  who  felt  the  irresistible 
inclination  to  sleep,  against  which  he  had  warned  the  others ; 
and  insisted  on  being  permitted  to  lie  down;  Mr.  Banks  (Sir 
Joseph)  entreated  and  remonstrated  in  vain — clown  he  lay  on 
the  ground,  then  covered  with  snow,  and  it  was  with  the  great- 
est difficulty  he  was  prevented  from  sleeping.  After  a  little 
they  got  him  on  his  legs,  and  partly  by  entreaty  and  partly  by 
force,  brought  him  on,  till  at  last  he  declared  he  neither  could 
nor  would  go  any  farther,  till  he  had  had  some  sleep  ;— when  they 
attempted  to  hinder  him,  he  drew  his  sword,  and  threatened 
the  life  of  his  friends  ; — they  were  unable  to  carry  him,  and 
were  obliged  to  suffer  him  to  lie  down,  and  he  fell  instantly 
into  a  profound  sleep.  Some  men  who  had  been  sent  forward 
to  kindle  a  fire,  just  then  returned  with  the  joyful  news  that 
they  had  succeeded  :  Dr.  Solander  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
was  awaked,  and  though  he  had  not  slept  five  minutes,  yet  he 
Jiad  then  nearly  lost  the  use  of  his  limbs ;  and  the  muscles 
were  so  shrunk,  that  the  shoes  fell  off  his  feet.  Two  blacks, 
who  were  in  the  same  circumstances,  could  not  be  re-awaked, 
they  slept  their  last ;  but  all  the  rest  on  being  brought  to  the 
fire  recovered. 

The  bay  of  St.  Aubin,  was  very  near  furnishing  another  in- 
stance, to  several  already  published,  of  the  soporific  effects  of 
intense  cold  on  the  human  body: — the  life  of  the  subject  of 
this  narrative,  being  barely  saved  from  a  similar  death. 

The  fable  of  the  Lion  taken  in  a  net,  and  delivered  by  a 
Mouse,  has  been,  in  its  moral,  frequently  realized.  Several 
years  after  this,  Francis,  the  young  man  above  mentioned, 
who  was  a  joiner,  having  come  to  London  in  order  to  better 
his  situation,  was  by  sickness,  the  death  of  his  wife,  and  other 
circumstances,  involved  in  debt,  and  ultimately  thrown  into 
prison  by  a  ruthless  creditor : — Mr.  C,  who  happened  to  be  in 
London  at  the  time,  (1796,)  heard  the  case,  paid  the  debt,  and 
delivered  his  friend,  whom  he  had  not  heard  of  for  nine  or  ten 
years,  from  his  wretched  circumstances ;  and  restored  him  to 
liberty,  and  to  his  motherless  children. — No  kind  or  benevo- 
lent act,  be  it  done  to  whom  it  may,  ever  loses  its  reward. — 
It  is  laid  up  before  God,  and  has  its  return  generally  in  this, 
and  often  also  in  the  coming  worlo. 

Mr.  Clarke  was  the  first  Methodist  preacher  that  visited 
the  Island  of  Alderney,  the  nearest  to  France  of  all  the  Nor- 
man Islands  ;  as  it  is  separated  from  Cape  la  Hogue,  in  Nor- 


214 


HE  VISITS  ALDERNEY. 


mandy,  only  by  a  narrow  channel  three  leagues  broad,  called 
ihe  Race  of  Alderney.  There  was  something  singular  in  his 
visit  to  this  Island,  which  he  details  in  a  Letter  to  the  Eev.  J. 
Wesley  ;  the  substance  of  which  I  shall  here  insert. 

Guernsey,  March  16,  1787. 

"  Rev.  and  very  dear  Sir, 

"  As  in  my  last  I  intimated  my  intention  to  visit  the  Isle  of 
Alderney ;  I  think  it  my  duty  to  give  you  some  particulars  rela- 
tive to  the  success  of  that  voyage. — My  design  being  made 
public,  many  hinderances  were  thrown  in  my  way.  It  was  re- 
ported that  the  Governor  had  threatened  to  prohibit  my  land- 
ing, and  that  in  case  he  found  me  on  the  Island,  he  would 
transport  me  to  the  Caskets,  (a  rock  in  the  sea,  about  three 
leagues  W.  of  Alderney  ;  on  which  there  is  a  light-house  ;) 
these  threatenings  being  published  here  rendered  it  very  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  procure  a  passage,  as  several  of  my  friends  were 
against  my  going,  fearing  bad  consequences ;  and  none  of  the 
captains  who  traded  to  the  Inland,  were  willing  to  take  me, 
fearing  to  incur  thereby  the  displeasure  of  the  Governor,  not- 
withstanding I  offered  them  any  thing  they  could  reasonably 
demand  for  my  passage.  I  thought  at  last  I  should  be  obliged 
to  hire  one  of  the  English  packets,  as  I  was  determined  to  go, 
by  God's  grace,  at  all  events. 

"  Having  waited  a  long  time,  watching  sometimes  day  and 
night,  I  at  last  got  a  vessel  bound  for  the  Island,  in  which  I 
embarked,  and  after  a  few  hours  of  pleasant  sailing,  though 
not  without  some  fatigue  and  sickness,  we  came  to  the  SW. 
side  of  the  Island,  where  we  were  obliged  to  cast  anchor,  as 
the  tide  was  too  far  spent  to  carry  us  round  to  the  harbour. 
The  captain  put  me  and  some  others  on  shore  with  the  boat. 
I  then  climbed  up  the  steep  rocks,  and  got  to  the  top  of  the  Isl- 
and, heartily  thanking  the  Lord  for  my  safe  passage.  Being 
arrived,  I  found  I  had  some  new  difficulties  to  encounter.  I 
knew  not  where  to  go :  I  had  no  acquaintance  in  tne  place,  nor 
had  any  invited  me  thither.  For  some  time  my  mind  was 
perplexed  in  reasoning  on  these  things,  ttil  that  word  of 
the  God  of  Missionaries  came  powerfully  to  me,  '  Into  what- 
soever house  ye  enter,  first  say,  peace  be  to  this  house, — and  in 
the  same  house  remain,  eating  and  drinking  such  things  as 
they  give  you.'  Luke  x.  5,  7.  From  this  I  toon  courage,  and 
proceeded  to  the  town,  which  is  about  a  mile  distant  from  the 
harbour.  After  having  walked  some  way  into  it,  I  took  par- 
ticular notice  of  a  very  poor  cottage,  into  which  I  felt  a  strong 
inclination  to  enter.  I  did  so,  with  a  'Peace  be  unto  this 
house;'  and  found  in  it  an  old  man  and  woman,  who,  having 
understood  my  business,  bade  me  '  welcome  to  the  best  food 
they  had,  to  a  little  chamber  where  I  might  sleep,  and  (what 
was  still  more  acceptable)  to  their  house  to  preach  in.'  On 


HE  VISITS  ALDERNEY. 


215 


hearing  this,  I  saw  plainly  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  upon 
me  for  good,  and  1  thanked  him  and  took  courage. 

"Being  unwilling  to  lose  any  time,  1  told  them  I  would 
preach  that  evening,  if  they  could  procure  me  a  congregation. 
This  strange  news  spread  rapidly  through  the  town:  and  long 
before  the  appointed  hour  a  multitude  of  people  flocked  to- 
gether, to  whom  1  spoke  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  nearly  as 
long  as  the  little  strength  held  out,  which  remained  from  the 
fatigues  of  my  voyage.  It  was  with  much  difficulty  I  could 
persuade  them  to  go  away,  after  promising  to  preach  to  them 
the  next  evening. 

"  I  then  retired  to  my  little  apartment,  where  1  had  scarcely 
rested  twenty  minutes,  when  the  good  woman  of  «the  house 
came  and  entreated  me  to  tome  doicn  and  preach  again,  as 
several  of  the  gentry,  (among  whom  was  one  of  the  justices,) 
were  come  to  hear  what  I  had  to  say.  I  stepped  down  imme- 
diately, and  found  the  house  once  more  quite  full.  Deep  at- 
tention sat  on  every  face,  while  I  shewed  the  great  need  they 
stood  in  of  a  Saviour,  and  exhorted  them  to  turn  immediately 
from  all  their  iniquities  to  the  living  God.  I  continued  in  this 
good  work  about  an  hour,  having  received  peculiar  assistance 
from  on  high,  and  concluded  with  informing  them  what  my 
design  was  in  visiting  their  island,  and  the  motives  that  in- 
duced me  thereto.  Having  ended,  the  justice  stepped  forward, 
exchanged  a  few  very  civil  words  with  me,  and  desired  to  see 
the  book  out  of  which  I  had  been  speaking.  I  gave  it  into  his 
hand  :  he  looked  over  it  with  attention,  and  asked  me  several 
questions  ;  all  which  I  answered  apparently  to  his  satisfac- 
tion. Having  bestowed  a  few  more  hearty  advices  on  him 
and  the  congregation,  they  all  quickly  departed  ;  and  the  con- 
cern evident  on  many  of  their  countenance  fully  proved  that 
God  had  added  his  testimony  to  that  of  his  feeble  servant. 
The  next  evening  I  preached  again  to  a  large  attentive  com- 
pany, to  whom,  I  trust,  the  word  of  the  Lord  came  not  in  vain. 

"But  a  singular  circumstance  took  place  the  next  day. 
While  I  sat  at  dinner  a  constable  from  a  person  in  authority, 
came  to  solicit  my  immediate  appearance  at  a  place  called  the 
Bray  (where  several  respectable  families  dwelt,  and  where 
the  Governor's  stores  are  kept,)  to  preach  to  a  company  of 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  who  were  waiting,  and  at  whose  desire 
one  of  the  large  store-rooms  was  prepared  for  that  purpose. 
I  went  without  delay,  and  was  brought  by  the  lic/or  to  his 
master's  apartment,  who  behaved  with  much  civility,  told  me 
the  reason  of  his  sending  for  me,  and  begged  I  would  preach 
without  delay.  I  willingly  consented,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  a  large  company  was  assembled.  The  gentry  were  not 
so  partial  to  themselves,  as  to  exclude  several  sailors,  smug- 
glers, and  labourers,  from  hearing  with  them.  The  Lord  was 
wjth  me,  and  enabled  me  to  explain  from  Prov.  xii.  28.,  th« 


216 


HE  VISITS  ALDERNEY. 


character  and  conduct  of  the  righteous  ;  and  to  prove  by  many 
sound  arguments,  that  such  a  one  was,  beyond  all  comparison 
'  more  excellent  than  his'  ungodly  '  neighbour,'  however  great, 
rich,  wise,  or  important  he  might  appear  in  the  eyes  of  men. 
All  heard  with  deep  attention,  save  an  English  gentleman,  so 
called,  who  walked  out  about  the  middle  of  the  discourse, 
perhaps  to  shew  the  islanders  that  he  despised  sacred  things. 

"  The  next  Sabbath  morning,  being  invited  to  preach  in 
the  English  church,  I  gladly  accepted  it,  and  in  the  evening 
I  preached  in  the  large  warehouse  at  the  Bray,  to  a  much 
larger  congregation,  composed  of  the  principal  gentry  of  the 
Island,  together  with  justices,  jurats,  constables,  &c.  The 
Lord  was*again  with  me,  and  enabled  me  to  declare  His 
counsel  without  fear,  and  several  were  affected.  Surely  there 
will  be  fruit  found  of  this,  to  the  honour  and  praise  of  God. 
Even  so,  Lord  Jesus  !  Amen. 

"  The  next  day  being  the  time  appointed  for  my  return, 
many  were  unwilling  I  should  go,  saying,  '  We  have  much 
need  of  such  preaching,  and  such  a  preacher :  we  wish  you 
would  abide  in  the  Island  and  go  back  no  more.'  The  tide 
serving  at  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  I  attended  at 
the  beach  in  order  to  embark  ;  but  an  unexpected  Providence 
rendered  this  impracticable.  The  utmost  of  the  flood  did  not 
set  the  vessel  afloat ;  and,  though  many  attempts  were  made 
lo  get  her  off,  by  hauling  astern,  &c,  all  were  in  vain.  I  then 
returned  to  the  town ;  the  people  were  glad  of  mv  detention, 
and  earnestly  hoped,  '  that  the  vessel  might  sit  fast,  at  least 
till  the  next  spring  tides.'  Many  came  together  in  the  evening, 
to  whom  I  again  preached  with  uncommon  liberty  ;  and  God 
appeared  more  eminently  present  than  before,  giving  several 
to  see  at  least,  'men  as  trees  walking.'  This,  with  several 
other  observable  circumstances,  induced  me  to  believe  thai 
my  detention  was  of  the  Lord,  and  that  I  had  not  before  fully 
delivered  His  counsel.  The  vessel  being  got  off  the  same 
night  about  twelve  o'clock,  I  recommended  them  to  God, 
promised  them  a  preacher  shortly,  and  setting  sail  I  arrived 
in  Guernsey  in  about  twenty-one  hours.  Glory  be  to  God  for 
ever !  Amen. 

"  Several  very  remarkable  circumstances  attended  this 
little  voyage,  the  detailing  of  which  I  omit ;  from  the  whole 
of  which  i  conclude,  that  an  effectual  door  is  opened  in  that 
Island  for  the  reception  of  the  everlasting  Gospel,  and  am 
convinced  I  did  not  mistake  the  call  of  the  Lord.  One  thing 
I  believe  greatly  contributed  to  the  good  that  may  have  been 
done: — viz.  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  which  I  got  our  So- 
cieties both  in  town  and  country  to  observe.  Were  this 
method  more  frequently  adopted  we  should  not  attempt  the 
introduction  of  the  Gospel  so  much  in  vain.  There  is  not.  the 
smallest  opposition  nor  even  the  appearance  of  any.    A11  to 


ACCOUNT  OE  THE  NORMAN  ISLES. 


217 


the  clergyman,  he  is  absolutely  a  Gallio ;  for,  on  being  in- 
formed that  a  Methodist  preacher  had  got  into  the  Island,  he 
said,  '  A  Quaker  came  a-preaching  here  some  years  ago,  and 
he  did  not  convert  one  ;  and  it  is  probable  it  will  be  the  case 
with  this  Methodist  also.'  And  so  he  rests  perfectly  contented. 
Indeed  he  preaches  not  at  all:  he  reads  the  Liturgy  and 
OstervakVs  Refections  upon  the  First  and  Second  Lessons; 
nor  do  the  people  expect  him  to  do  any  thing  farther. 

I  am,  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir, 
Your  affectionate  and  Obedient  Son  in  the  Gospel, 
Adam  Clarke." 

Since  the  time  above  mentioned,  a  great  increase  of  religion 
has  been  seen  in  the  island  of  Alderney.  A  chapel  has  been 
built,  and  many  have  been  brought  from  the  power  of  Satan 
unto  God,  by  means  of  the  Methodist  preachers,  both  English 
and  French. 

Alderney,  called  by  the  inhabitants  Auregny,  lies  about  three 
leagues  south-west  of  Cape  la  Hague,  in  Normandy. 

This  Island  derives  much  of  its  supplies  from  France. 
Such  as,  fresh  meat,  butter,  eggs,  &c,  which  supply,  to  the 
great  inconvenience  of  the  inhabitants,  is  cut  off  in  the  time 
of  war :  and  is  often  suspended  in  the  time  of  peace,  by  foul 
weather  and  contrary  winds.  This  latter  was  the  case  when 
Mr.  C.  visited  this  Island,  no  fresh  meat  could  be  found  ;  and 
the  people  with  whom  he  lodged  had  nothing  to  present  him, 
out  sicin&s  flesh,  an  aliment  of  which  he  never  partook.  In- 
deed there  was  nothing  to  be  had  besides,  except  salt  butter 
and  sfiip-biscuit.  Having  inquired  whether  any  fresli  eggs 
could  be  procured,  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  as  many  as 
he  needed  during  his  stay.  An  old  frying-pan  was  found, 
deeply  rusted,  having  been  long  out  of  use :  from  this  he 
scraped  off  the  thickest  crusts  of  the  rust,  got  a  piece  of  but- 
ter, melted  it  in  the  pan  over  the  fire,  and  with  a  handful  of 
oaArum(old  tarred  rope,  unravelled  to  its  component  parts)  he 
wiped  out  the  pan  as  clean  as  he  could,  and  then  fried  his 
eggs  with  a  piece  of  the  salt  butter,  which  looked  of  a  fine 
deep  brown,  each  cooking  serving  to  detach  some  portions  of 
the  remaining  rust.  Such  fricassees  with  coarse  hard  ship- 
biscuit  served  him  in  general  for  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper, 
while  he  remained  on  the  Island :  and  for  this  he  felt  thank- 
ful both  to  God  and  man  It  is  true,  he  had  some  invitations 
to  go  to  better  houses,  and  get  better  fare  ;  but  he  remembered 
the  words  of  our  Lord,  which  occurred  to  his  mind  on  enter- 
ing into  the  town,  "  And  into  whatsoever  house  you  enter, 
there  abide,  eating  and  drinking  such  tilings  as  they  give  you." 
This  house  he  believed  the  Lord  had  opened;  and  on  this  ac- 
count he  could  have  preferred  it  to  the  palace  of  the  forest  of 
Lebanou.    While  he  remained  in  these  Islands  he  had  the 

18 


218 


BRISTOL  CIRCUIT. 


satisfaction  to  be  able  to  erect  a  convenient  and  excellent  cha- 
pel, in  the  town  of  St.  Peter's  in  Guernsey,  and  saw  a  large 
and  respectable  congregation  established  in  it. 

Among  these  Islanders  Mr.  C.  met  with  much  kindness  : — 
several  were  converted  to  God,  who  became  ornaments  of  their 
profession,  and  patterns  of  piety.    In  Guernsey  he  seldom  met 


attended  his  preaching,  and  treated  him  with  great  respect. 
This  was  the  case  also  at  Aldemey.  Jersey  differed  from  all 
the  rest,  as  we  have  already  seen ;  yet  there  he  had  among  his 
friends,  some  of  the  first  families  in  the  island. 

The  fertility  of  these  islands  has  been  noticed  by  histo- 
rians in  general, — as  a  proof  of  this,  take  the  following  ex- 
amples : — 

In  a  garden  in  the  parish  of  St.  Saviour's  in  Jersey,  he  saw  a 
plot  of  cabbages,  which,  on  an  average,  measured  seven  feet  in 
height,  with  large  and  solid  heads.  In  Mr.  De  Jersey's  garden, 
at  Mon  Plaisir,  in  Guernsey,  where  he  lodged,  there  was  a 
cabbage  that  grew  beside,  and  surpassed  in  height,  a  full-grown 
apple  tree :  when  cut  down,  the  stem  was  sixteen  feet  in 
length! 

The  strawberry  garden  in  the  same  place  was  very  remark- 
able, both  for  the  abundance,  size,  and  flavour  of  the  fruit.  It 
will  surprise  the  Reader  to  hear  that  from  this  one  garden, 
which,  though  large,  was  not  enormously  so,  there  were  gath- 
ered duily,  Sundays  excepted,  for  nearly  six  weeks,  from  fifty 
to  one  hundred  pounds  weight  of  strawberries !  All  other 
fruits  were  in  proportion,  botli  in  quantity  and  flavour.  In 
Mr.  Brackenbury's  garden,  in  St.  Helliers,  Jersey,  he  cut  down 
a  bunch  of  grapes,  which  weighed  about  twenty  pounds  ! 
When  he  and  Mrs.  Clarke  returned  to  England,  they  could 
not  relish  any  of  the  fruits,  as  the  finest  peaches  and  necta- 
rines were  only  like  good  turnips,  when  compared  with  fruits 
of  the  same  species  produced  in  those  fertile  islands. 


In  July,  1789,  he  removed  finally  from  the  Norman  islands, 
and,  leaving  Mrs.  C.  and  his  son  John,  then  about  six  months 
old,  at  Trowbridge,  he  proceeded  to  Leeds,  where  the  Confer- 
ence was  that  year  held,  and  where  he  received  his  appoint- 
ment for  the  Bristol  Circuit. 

By  this  time  his  studies  and  confinement  in  the  islands, 
had  preyed  a  good  deal  on  his  health  ;  and  the  cough,  which 
he  had  got  several  years  before  by  sleeping  in  a  wet  bed  at 
Beeralston,  became  so  severe  and  oppressive,  that  it  threat- 
ened his  death.    Mr.  Wesley  himself  saw  this,  and  in  a  visit 


with 


Many  decent,  respectable  families, 


BRISTOL  CIRCUIT. 


MR.  WESLEY. 


219 


after  Conference  (o  Bristol,  (old  the  Society  that  "he  be- 
lieved they  would  soon  lose  their  assistant."  He  was,  how- 
ever, enabled  to  go  through  the  work  of  the  Circuit>  which 
was  very  severe  ;  and  though  there  was  but  little  prosperity 
in  the  Circuit,  yet  he  left  it  both  in  its  spiritual  and  temporal 
concerns,  in  a  much  better  state  than  he  found  it.  What  con- 
tributed much  to  his  ill  health  in  Bristol  was,  all  the  lodging 
rooms  were  over  the  chapel,  and  the  noxious  effluvia  from  the_ 
breath  of  so  many  hundreds  of  people  who  assembled  there 
throughout  the  week,  made  the  place  extremely  unhealthy. 
The  plan,  of  building  all  the  lodging  rooms  over  the  chapel, 
and  on  which  several  of  the  original  Methodist  preaching  houses 
were  built,  was  greatly  prejudicial  to  the  health  of  the  preach- 
ers and  their  families. 

In  1790  the  Conference  was  held  in  Bristol,  the  last  in 
which  that  most  eminent  man  of  God,  John  Wesley,  presided  : 
who  seemed  to  have  his  mind  particularly  impressed  with  the 
necessity  of  making  some  permanent  rule  that  might  tend  to 
lessen  the  excessive  labour  of  the  preachers,  which  he  saw 
was  shortening  the  lives  of  many  useful  men. 

In  a  private  meeting  with  some  of  the  principal  and  senior 
preachers,  which  was  held  in  Mr.  W.'s  study,  to  prepare  mat- 
ters for  the  Conference,  he  proposed  that  a  rule  should  be  made 
that  no  preacher  should  preach  thrice  on  the  same  day :  Messrs. 
Mather,  Pawson,  Thompson,  and  others,  said  this  would  be 
impracticable  ;  as  it  was  absolutely  necessary,  in  most  cases, 
( ha  t  the  preachers  should  preach  thrice  every  Lord's  day,  without 
which  the  places  could  not  be  supplied.  Mr.  W.  replied,  "  It 
must  be  given  up  ;  we  shall  lose  our  preachers  by  such  exces- 
sive labour."  They  answered,  "We  have  all  done  so:  and 
you  even  at  a  very  advanced  age  have  continued  to  do  so." 
"What  I  have  clone,"  said  he,  "  is  out  of  the  question,  my 
life  and  strength  have  been  under  an  especial  Providence ; 
besides,  I  know  better  than  they  how  to  preach  without 
injuring  myself ;  and  no  man  can  preach  thrice  a  day  with- 
out killing  himself  sooner  or  later;  and  the  custom  shall 
not  be  .continued."  They  pressed  the  point  no  farther,  finding 
that  he  was  determined  ;  but  they  deceived  him  after  all,  by 
altering  the  minute  thus,  when  it  went  to  the  press : — "No 
preacher  shall  any  more  preach  three  times  in  the  same  day 
(to  the  same  congregation.)"  By  which  clause  the  minute 
was  entirely  neutralized.  He  who  preaches  the  Gospel  as  he 
ought,  must  do  it  with  his  whole  strength  of  body  and  soul, 
and  he  who  undertakes  a  labour  of  this  kind  thrice  every  Lord's 
day,  will  infallibly  shorten  his  life  by  it.  He,  who,  instead  of 
preaching,  talks  to  the  people,  merely  speaks  about  good 
things,  or  tells  a  religious  story,  will  never  injure  himself  by 
•iuch  an  employment  ;  such  a  person  does  not  labour  in  the 


620 


MR.  CLARKE  IN  DUBLIN. 


word  and  doctrine,  he  tells  his  tale,  and  as  he  preaches  so  his 
congregation  believes,  and  sinners  are  left  as  he  found  them. 

At  this  Conference  it  was  found  very  difficult  to  get  a 
preacher  for  Dublin ;  for  during  Mr.  Wesley's  life,  an  Eng- 
lish preacher  was  generally  appointed  to  that  station,  and  he 
was  considered  the  general  assistant,  that  is,  Mr.  W.'s  repre- 
sentative, over  all  the  Irish  Circuits  and  preachers.  Mr.  C. 
was  proposed  by  several  of  the  preachers,  but  Mr.  W.  refused 
because  of  the  indifferent  state  of  his  health:  however,  they 
at  last  persuaded  Mr.  W.  to  consent,  provided,  when  the  pro- 
posal should  be  made  to  Mr.  C,  he  should  not  object.  It  wasac- 
cordingly  laid  before  him  ;  and,  as  it  was  his  maxim  never  to 
choose  a  Circuit,  nor  object  to  his  appointment,  he  agreed,  and 
was  sent  over  to  Dublin,  Aug.  1790. 


DUBLIN. 

At  the  time  of  Mr.  Clarke's  arrival  in  Dublin,  he  found 
himself  exposed  to  many  inconveniences.  They  had  been 
building  a  new  house  for  the  preacher,  with  which  they  con- 
nected a  large  room  for  a  charity-school.  The  preacher  and 
his  family  were  to  occupy  the  lower  part  and  first  floor,  and 
the  charity-school  was  to  extend  over  the  whole  of  the  build- 
ing, on  the  second  floor.  Owing  to  the  unprincipled  builder, 
the  house  was  not  made  either  according  to  the  time  or  plan 
specified.  The  builder  was  a  knave,  to  whom  the  stewards 
of  the  society  had  trusted  the  agreement  signed  by  each, 
which  agreement  he  absolutely  refused  ever  to  produce.  Bad 
brick,  bad  mortar,  inferior  timber,  and  execrable  workmanship, 
were  every  where  apparent ;  and  the  knave  was  safe,  as  he 
professed  to  have  lost  the  agreement,  but  maintained  that  all 
was  done  according  to  the  specification.  The  house  not 
being  ready,  Mr.  C.  and  his  family  were  obliged  to  go  into 
lodgings,  which  were  far  from  being  either  comfortable  or 
convenient,  but  it  was  near  the  chapel,  and  the  new  house 
was  expected  to  be  soon  ready. 

The  inconvenience  of  the  lodging  induced  Mr.  Clarke  to 
enter  the  new  house  long  before  it  was  dry,  which  nearly  cost 
him  and  his  family  their  lives.  He  was  shortly  seized  with  a 
dreadful  rheumatic  affection  in  his  head,  which  was  supposed 
to  be  occasioned  by  a  congestion  of  the  blood-vessels  of  the 
brain  ;  and  in  consequence  of  this  supposition,  his  physicians 
were  led  to  adopt  a  wrong  treatment,  which  assisted  the  dis- 
ease, and  by  both  he  was  brought  nearly  to  the  gates  of  death. 
His  recovery  was  slow  and  imperfect,  and  he  was  obliged,  at 
the  ensuing  Conference,  to  return  to  England. 

Dublin  was  not  at  that  time  a  comfortable  situation  for  a 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  DUBLIN.  221 

preacher.  There  had  been  disputes  in  the  Society  which  had 
greatly  injured  it.  Dr.  Coke,  with  the  approbation  of  Mr.  Wesley, 
had  introduced  the  use  of  the  Liturgy  into  the  chapel  at  White- 
friar  Street, — this  measure  was  opposed  by  some  of  the  leading 
members  of  the  Society,  as  tending  to  what  they  called  a  sepa- 
ration from  the  church ;  when,  in  truth,  it  was  the  most  effec- 
tual way  to  keep  the  Society  attached  to  the  spirit  and  doctrines 
of  the  church  ;  who,  because  they  were  without  Divine  service 
in  church  hours,  were  scattered  throughout  the  city,  some  at 
church,  and  many  more  at  different  places  of  Dissenting  wor- 
ship, where  they  heard  doctrines  that  tended  greatly  to  unsettle 
their  religious  opinions  ;  and  in  the  end,  many  were  lost  to  the 
Society.  In  consequence  of  the  introduction  of  the  Liturgy  a 
very  good  congregation  assembled  at  Whitefriar  Street ;  and 
much  good  might  have  been  done,  if  the  rich  members  of  the 
Society  had  not  continued  hostile  to  the  measure,  by  with- 
drawing their  countenance  and  support,  which  they  generally 
did.  At  last,  both  sides  agreed  to  desire  the  British  Confer- 
ence, for  the  saka  of  peace,  to  restore  matters  to  their  original 
state,  and  abolish  the  forenoon's  service ;  Mr.  C,  who  at  that 
time  laboured  under  the  same  kind  of  prejudice,  gave  his  voice 
against  the  continuance  of  the  Prayers,  and.  at  his  recommen- 
dation, the  Conference  annulled  the  service.  This  was  the 
greatest  ecclesiastical  error  he  ever  committed ;  and  one 
which  he  deeply  deplored  for  many  years  ;  and  was  thankful  to 
God  when  in  the  course  of  Divine  Providence,  he  was  enabled 
many  years  after  to  restore  that  service  in  the  newly  erected 
chapel  in  Abbey  Street,  which  he  had  formerly  been  the  instru- 
ment of  putting  down  in  Whitefriar  Street; — that  very  same 
party,  to  please  whom  it  was  done,  having  separated  from  the 
Methodists'  body,  and  set  up  a  spurious  and  factious  connexion 
of  their  own,  under  the  name  of  Primitive  Methodism;  aprin- 
cipal  object  of  which  was  to  deprive  the  original  connexion  of 
its  chapels,  divide  its  societies,  and  in  every  way  injure  its 
Cnances,  and  traduce  both  its  spiritual  and  loyal  character. 

It  may  be  asked,  Why  did  Mr.  C.  in  the  year  1790,  espouse 
the  side  of  this  party  ?"— It  is  but  justice  to  say  that,  to  that 
class  of  men  he  was  under  no  kind  of  obligation  :  he  had  never 
asked  nor  received  favours  from  any  of  them.  They  had  ne- 
glected him,  though  he  was  on  their  side  of  the  question,  as 
much  as  they  did  those  who  were  opposed  to  them :  he  and  his 
family  had  nothing  but  affliction  and  distress  while  they  re- 
mained in  Dublin,  and  that  party  neither  ministered  to  his 
necessities,  nor  sympathised  with  him  in  his  afflictions.  W'hat 
he  did  was  from  an  ill-grounded  fear  that  the  introduction  of 
the  church  service  might  lead  to  a  separation  from  the  Church, 
(which  the  prejudice  of  education  could  alone  suggest,)  and 
he  thought  the  different  societies  might  be  induced  to  attend  at 
their  parish  churches,  and  so  all  kinds  of  dissent  he  prevented. 


DISTRESSES  IN  DUBLIN. 


But  multitudes  of  those,  whatever  name  they  had  been  callecl 
by,  never  belonged  to  any  church,  and  felt  no  religious  attach- 
ment to  any  but  those  who  were  the  means  of  their  salvation. 
When,  therefore,  they  did  not  find  among  the  Methodists,  re- 
ligious service  on  the  proper  times  of  the  Lord's-day,  they 
often  wandered  heedlessly  about,  and  became  unhinged  and 
distracted  with  the  strange  doctrines  they  heard:  of  this  Mr. 
Clarke  was  afterwards  fully  convinced;  and  saw  the  folly  of 
endeavouring  to  force  the  people  to  attend  a  ministry  from 
which  they  had  never  received  any  kind  of  spiritual  advantage, 
and  the  danger  of  not  endeavouring  carefully  to  cultivate  the 
soil  which  they  had  with  great  pain  and  difficulty  enclosed, 
broken  up,  and  sown  with  the  good  seed, — the  word  of  the 
kingdom.  And  to  prove  that  no  favour  to  that  party,  nor 
expectation  from  them,  led  him  to  advocate  their  cause,  he 
did  it  when  he  had  left  their  city  and  never  intended  more  to 
return. 

While  in  Dublin,  the  most  solemn  event  that  ever  occurred 
in  the  Methodists'  Connexion,  took  place  : — the  death  of  the 
Rev.  John  Wesley.  When  Mr.  C.  heard  of  it  he  was  over- 
whelmed with  grief;  all  he  could  do,  such  were  his  feelings, 
was  to  read  the  little  printed  Account  of  his  last  moments.* 

Of  the  agitations  occasioned  by  his  death  in  the  Methodists' 
Connexion,  it  is  unnecessary  to  encumber  this  narrative,  as 
they  have  already  been  sufficiently  detailed.  Mr.  Wesley's 
respect  for  Mr.  C.  was  evidenced  by  the  codicil  to  his  last 
will,  in  which  he  made  him  with  six  others,  trustees  for  all 
his  literary  property :  and  this  codicil  was  at  last  found  to 
supercede  the  will,  and  these  seven  administered  to  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's effects,  and  afterwards  conveyed  all  their  rights  and 
authority  to  the  Conference. 

Shortly  after  Mr.  Clarke  came  to  Dublin,  he  entered  himself 
206 

*  On  this  occasion  Funeral  Sermons  were  preached  for  him  in 
almost  every  place,  and  among  the  rest  at  City  Road,  London,  by 
Dr.  Whitehead,  which  being  highly  esteemed,  it  was  shortly  after- 
wards published  :  a  copy  of  this  Sermon  Mr.  Clarke  sent  to  the  learn- 
ed Dr.  Barnard,  then  Bishop  of  Killaloe,  accompanied  by  a  letter  from 
himself,  to  which  his  Lordship  replied  in  the  following  letter. 

"  April  21th,  1791. 

"  Sir, 

"  I  received  the  favour  of  your  letter,  and  the  excellent  Sermon  that 
accompanied  it,  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Wesley,  which  I  have  perused 
with  serious  attention  and  uncommon  satisfaction. 

"  It  contains  a  true  and  not  exaggerated  encomium  on  that  faithful 
and  indefatigable  servant  of  God  who  is  now  at  rest  from  his  labours, 
and  (what  is  of  more  consequence  to  those  who  read  it,)  an  intelligi- 
ble and  judicious  anoXoyia  for  the  doctrine  that  he  taught,  which  he  has 
set  forth  in  the  clearest  terms,  and  with  a  simplicity  of  style,  even 
beyond  that  of  Mr.  Wesley  himself;  without  the  smallest  tincture  of 


MR.  CLARKE  PROSECUTES  HIS  STUDIES. 


2$ 


a  medical  student  in  Trinity  College,  and  attended  several 
courses  of  Lectures  ;  one  on  the  Institutes  of  Medicine,  by 
Dr.  Dickison,  Regius  Physician;  one  on  Anatomy,  by  Dr. 
Cleghorn  ;  and  one  on  Chemistry,  by  Dr.  R.  Perceval.  From 
these  studies,  aided  by  his  own  sedulous  application,  he  ob- 
tained a  sufficiency  of  medical  knowledge  to  serve  nis  own 
large  family  in  all  common  cases,  and  to  keep  what  he  ever 
considered  the  bane  of  families,  all  apothecaries  from  his  door. 
When  he  thought  that  skill  superior  to  his  own  was  wanted, 
he  employed  some  respectable  physician  :  and  always  kept 
and  prepared  the  medicines  necessary  for  domestic  use.  His 
attendance  on  Dr.  Perceval's  Lectures  brought  on  an  intimacy 
between  him  and  that  excellent  man  and  eminent  Physician, 
whicli  has  been  unbroken  for  many  years,  and  still  flourishes 
with  high  respect  on  both  sides. 

While  in  this  city  he  formed  a  charitable  institution,  called 
"The  Strangers'  Friend  Society;  and  on  the  same  principles, 
he  founded  one  the  following  year,  at  Manchester;  and  one 
afterwards  in  London :  the  Rules  and  Plan  of  which  were 
adopted  and  societies  of  a  similar  kind  formed  in  almost  all  the 
chief  towns  in  England,  which  still  subsist  in  all  their  vigour, 
and  have  done  more  public  good  than  any  charitable  institu- 
tions ever  formed  in  the  kingdom. 

He  buried  one  child,  his  eldest  daughter,  in  Dublin ;  and  re- 
turned to  England,  in  the  August  of  1791. 

f 


MANCHESTER,  1791—2. 

This  year  the  Methodist  conference  was  held  in  Manches- 
ter, and  Mr.  C.  being  at  this  time  in  a  bad  state  of  health,  was 
appointed  to  this  circuit;  being  advised  to  use  the  Buxton 

(reprehensible')  enthusiasm,  erroneous  judgment,  or  heterodox  opinion. 
He  has  plainly  expounded  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Christ  Jesus ;  and  1 
hope  and  believe  that  the  dispersion  of  this  little  tract  may  do  much 
good:  as  the  sublimest  truths  of  Christianity,  are  there  reduced  ad 
captum  vulgi,  and  at  the  same  time  proved  to  the  learned  to  be  none 
other  than  such  as  have  been  always  held  and  professed  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church  from  the  time  of  the  Apostles  till  now,  however  indivi- 
duals may  have  lost  sight  of  them. 

"  I  am  particularly  obliged  to  you  for  communicating  to  me  this 
little  tract,  and  wish  that  I  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing  the  author. 

"  I  return  you  my  thanks  for  the  personal  respect  you  are  so  good 
as  to  express  for  me,  and  should  be  happy  to  deserve  it. 
I  am,  Sir, 
^Your  very  obedient  humble  servant, 

>  Thos.  Killaloe. 

"  If  I  have  omitted  to  direct  this  properly  I  hope  you  will  excuse 
me,  as  you  do  not  mention  whether  you  are  in  orders  or  not." 


221 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 


Waters,  as  the  likeliest  means  of  his  recovery.  He  tried  the 
waters  both  by  drinking  and  bathing,  and  was  greatly  bene- 
fitted. The  following  year  he  visited  Buxton  again,  and  had 
his  health  completely  restored.  Of  the  great  utility  of  these 
waters  in  rheumatic  affections,  he  has  everspoken  in  the  strong- 
est terms ;  believing  that  this  efficacy  could  not  be  too  highly 
appreciated. 

About  this  time  the  French  revolution  seemed  to  interest  the 
whole  of  Europe.  On  the  question  of  its  expediency  and  le- 
gality, men  were  strangely  divided.  The  high  Tories  con- 
sidered it  as  a  most  atrocious  rebellion;  the  Whigs,  and  those 
who  leaned  to  a  republican  creed,  considered  it  a  most  justi- 
fiable exertion  of  an  enslaved  nation  to  break  its  chains.  ;nid 
free  itself  from  the  most  unprincipled  despotism,  and  abject 
slavery.  The  history  of  this  mighty  contest  is  well  known. 
The  nation  succeeded,  though  opposed  by  all  the  powers  of 
Europe;  and  many  of  its  officers  acquired  such  eminent  de- 
grees of  military  glory,  as  surpassed  every  thing  of  the  kind 
since  the  days  of  the  Grecian  Republics,  and  the  times  of  the 
ancient  Romans.  Rut  having  defeated  all  its  enemies,  it  be- 
came ambitious,  and  went  through  several  forms  of  govern- 
ment :  the  mass  of  the  people  produced  a  National  Assembly, 
— this  a  Directory, — this  a  consular  Triumvirate, — this  a  Dic- 
tator,— this  a  King  of  the  French, — this  an  Emperor,  who 
ruled  for  a  considerable  time  with  unlimited  power,  and  unex- 
ampled success; — confounding  the  politics  of  the  European 
states,  and  annihilating  their  armies. 

At  last  Napoleon,  the  most  accomplished  general  and  po- 
tentate which  modern  times  have  produced,  by  an  ill-judged 
winter  campaign  against  Russia,  had  an  immense  army  des- 
troyed by  the  frost,  himself  barely  escaping  from  the  enemy  ; 
after  which  his  good  fortune  seemed  generally  to  forsake  him  j 
till  at  last,  when  on  the  eve  of  victory,  at  the  famous  battle  of 
Waterloo,  by  one  of  those  chances  of  war,  to  which  many  lit- 
tle men  owe  their  consequent  greatness,  and  great  men  theii 
downfall,  he  was  defeated,  and  having  thrown  runaself  on  the 
generosity  of  the  British,  he  was  sent  a  prisoner  to  the  Rock 
of  St.  Helena,  where,  by  confinement  and  ungenerous  treat- 
ment, he  became  a  prey  to  disease  and  death. 

On  the  merits  of  this  Revolution,  in  all  the  states  through 
which  it  passed,  the  British  Nation  was  itself  greatly  divided. 
Even  religious  people  caught  the  general  mania,  greatly  ac- 
celerated by  the  publications  of  Thomas  Paine,  particular!} 
his  Rights  of  Man,  insomuch  that  (Ik1  pulpits  of  all  parlies, 
resounded  with  the  pro  and  con  politics  of  the  day,  to  the  otter 
neglect  of  the  pastoral  duty ;  so  that  "  the  hungry  sheep  Looked 
up  and  were  not  fed." 

It  was  the  lot  of  Mr.  Clarke  to  be  associated  at  this  time 
with  two  eminent  men,  who  unfortunately  took  opposite  sides 


strangers'  friend  society. 


225 


of  this  great  political  question;  one  pleading  for  the  lowest 
republicanism,  while  the  other  exhausted  himself  in  main- 
taining the  divine  right  of  kings  and  regular  governments  to 
do  what  might  seem  right  in  their  own  eyes,  the  people  at  large 
having  nothing  to  do  with  the  laws  but  to  obey  them.  His 
soul  was  grieved  at  this  state  of  things;  but  he  went  calmly  on 
his  way,  preaching  Christ  crucified  for  the  redemption  of  a 
lost  world;  and  though  his  abilities  were  greatly  inferior  to 
those  of  his  colleagues,  his  congregations  were  equal  to  theirs, 
and  his  word  more  abundantly  useful.  Political  preachers 
neither  convert  souls,  nor  build  up  believers  on  their  most 
holy  faith:  one  may  pique  himself  on  his  loyalty,  the  other 
on  his  liberality  and  popular  notions  of  government ;  but  in 
the  sight  of  the  Great  Head  of  the  Church,  the  first  is  a  sound- 
ing binss,  the  second  a  tinkling  cymbal. — 

 Arcades  ambo 

El  cantare  pares,  et  responderc  parati. 

Both  stubborn  statesmen,  both  with  skill  inspired, 
To  scold  or  bluster  as  their  cause  required. 

When  preachers  of  the  gospel  become  parties  in  party  poli- 
tics, religion  mourns,  the  church  is  unedified,  and  political  dis- 
putes agitate  even  the  faithful  of  the  land.  Such  preachers, 
no  matter  which  side  they  take,  are  no  longer  the  messengers 
of  glad  tidings,  but  the  seedsmen  of  confusion,  and  wasters  of 
the  heritage  of  Christ.  Though  Mr.  Clarke  had  fully  made 
up  his  mind  on  the  politics  of  the  day,  and  never  swerved  from 
his  Whig  principles,  yet  in  the  pulpit,  there  was  nothing 
heard  from  him  but  Christ  crucified,  and  the  salvation  pro- 
cured by  His  blood. 

While  in  this  town,  he  formed  that  now  well  known  in- 
stitution called  the  Strangers'1  Friend  Society,  which  has 
spread  over  most  of  the  populous  towns  and  cities  of  England ; 
and  has  been  the  means  of  turning  many  to  righteousness,  as 
well  as  of  saving  many  thousands  from  an  untimely  death. 

In  the  town  and  vicinity  of  Manchester,  he  laboured  for 
two  years.  Here  he  found  many  valuable  friends,  and  had 
the  satisfaction  to  know  that  he  had  neither  run  in  vain,  nor 
spent  his  strength  for  nought. 


APPENDIX. 


• 


APPENDIX. 


The  following  Letters  were  written  to  Miss  Mary- 
Cooke,  by  Mr.  Clarke,  before  they  were  married.  I  did 
not  think  myself  authorized  to  introduce  them  into  the 
body  of  Dr.  Clarke's  own  narrative,  which  would  so  far 
have  been  interpolated ;  judging  it  to  be  much  better  that 
the  account  of  his  Life,  which  he  had  written  for  publica- 
tion, should  appear  without  any  additions  from  either  his 
own  pen  or  those  of  others.  Yet  as  they  are  illustrative 
of  the  preceding  part  of  these  Memoirs,  and  bring  him  for- 
ward speaking  his  own  feelings  in  his  own  person,  they 
are  here  inserted.  They  declare  and  describe  various  si- 
tuations of  his  mind  and  circumstances ;  entering  into  that 
sort  of  conversational  detail  which  causes  events  to  rise  up 
living  before  us,  and  we  thus  become  companions  in  his 
thoughts  and  spectators  of  his  actions. 

Before,  however,  the  Reader  proceeds  to  the  perusal  of 
these  Letters,  he  may  be  pleased  with  knowing  the  circum- 
stances of  an  acquaintance  which  Mr.  Clarke  formed  in 
the  year  1791,  in  Dublin,  with  a  Turkish  Janissary.  The 
account  I  have  drawn  up  from  memoranda  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Dr.  Clarke. 

During  Mr.  Clarke's  residence  in  Dublin,  in  1791,  he 
was  called  upon  by  a  Turk,  who  had  just  arrived  from 
Liverpool,  and,  being  but  little  acquainted  with  the  Eng- 
lish language,  he  had  inquired  for  some  one  who  under- 
stood either  Arabic  or  Spanish ;  he  was  directed  to  Mr. 
Clarke,  to  whom  he  soon  made  known  his  situation ;  but, 
20 


230  APPENDIX. 

who  received  him  at  Hist  with  considerable  caution :  ac- 
quaintance, however,  convinced  him  of  Ibrahim  ben.  Ali's 
integrity,  and  daily  intercourse  ripened  into  a  friend  this 
casual  visiter.  The  principles  of  Christianity,  in  which 
Ibrahim  had  formerly  been  partially  instructed,  Mr.  Clarke 
explained  to  him  more  fully,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few 
months  he  was  admitted  at  his  earnest  request  to  the  rite  of 
Baptism,  which  was  performed  by  Mr.  Rutherford  in 
Whitefriar-street  Chapel,  Mr.  Clarke  interpreting  into  Spa- 
nish the  words  of  the  Baptismal  service.  He  received  the 
name  of  Adam. 

The  account  which  he  gave  of  himself  to  Mr.  Clarke, 
was  in  substance  the  following : — He  was  born  at  Con- 
stantinople in  the  year  1756  ;  his  father,  Ali  ben  Mustapha, 
possessed  an  estate  about  six  miles  from  Constantinople 
worth  30,000  machbou,  about  10.000Z.  sterling.  From 
his  youth  he  had  much  of  the  fear  of  God,  which  his 
father,  who  was  a  zealous  and  conscientious  Mussulman, 
endeavoured  to  improve.  Among  the  many  slaves  which 
his  father  possessed,  there  chanced  to  be  several  Spaniards, 
who  frequently  spoke  to  Ibrahim  of  the  God  of  the  Chris- 
tians, and  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Saviour  of  the  world  ;  add- 
ing, even  at  the  hazard  of  their  lives,  that  Mohammed 
was  not  a  true  Prophet,  and  that  his  doctrines  were  false. 
These  things  were  not  without  their  effect  upon  Ibrahim's 
mind. 

At  eleven  years  of  age  he  was  circumcised,  and  married 
at  thirteen  to  his  first  wife  Halima,  who  was  then  twelve. 
Shortly  after  his  marriage  he  performed  the  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca.  His  mother,  Halima,  was  a  Christian,  native  of 
the  Island  of  Zante,  and  having  been  stolen  by  some  Ve- 
netians, was  bought  in  Aleppo  by  Ali  ben  Mustapha,  who 
loved  her  too  well  to  take  another  wife.  She  preserved 
her  love  to  the  Christian  religion,  and  though  she  never 
dared  to  speak  openly  in  its  favour  to  her  children,  yet  she 


APPENDIX.  231 

frequently  gave  them  intimations  that  there  was  a  purer 
way  of  worshipping  the  true  God  than  that  in  which  they 
were  instructed.  When  they  were  old  or  sickly,  she  often 
obtained  the  liberty  of  many  of  her  husband's  Christian 
slaves. 

The  next  year  Ibrahim  married  his  second  wife  Fatima, 
and  his  third  Ayesha,  by  all  of  whom  he  had  six  children, 
three  by  the  first  wife,  two  by  the  second,  and  one  by  the 
last.  His  comforts  at  home  were  not  so  great  as  to  pre- 
vent him  from  thinking  of  travelling,  and  in  order  to  gra- 
tify his  desire  of  seeing  more  of  mankind,  his  friends  ad- 
vised him  to  procure  a  post  in  the  army  ;  this  he  proposed 
to  his  father,  who  obtained  him  a  Captain's  commission 
among  the  Janissaries. 

After  he  had  been  about  five  years  in  the  army,  a  most 
singular  and  awful  occurrence  took  place.  Two  young 
officers,  with  whom  he  had  contracted  a  very  intimate  ac- 
quaintance, and  who  lodged  close  to  himself  in  the  same 
barracks,  were  found  one  morning  murdered  in  their  beds. 
He  and  they  used  to  go  together  to  the  Mosque  very  early 
in  the  morning,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  Mohamme- 
dans :  the  above-mentioned  morning  he  sent  his  servant  to 
call  them  as  usual,  but  receiving  no  answer,  Ibrahim  went 
to  prayers  by  himself.  On  returning  to  his  rooms  he 
called  again,  and  again  received  no  answer.  About  eight 
the  Basha  came  and  inquired  for  them ;  he  found  their 
door  locked  and  no  answer  was  returned  to  his  summons  ; 
he  then  ordered  the  door  to  be  forced  open,  and  on  his  en- 
tering they  were  both  found  with  their  throats  cut,  and 
their  bodies  stabbed  in  several  places.  Ibrahim,  who  was 
known  to  be  intimate  with  the  murdered  men  and  who  slept 
in  the  next  room,  was  accused  of  the  murder  and  commit- 
ted to  prison.  His  declarations  of  innocence  were  in  vain, 
and  his  friends,  by  the  exercise  of  both  influence  and  en- 
treaty, could  only  obtain  five  days  to  be  granted,  in  which 


232 


APPENDIX. 


to  seek  and  discover  the  murderer.  On  the  fifth  day,  a 
plate  of  black  olives  was  sent  to  him  as  a  token  that  to- 
morrow he  must  die.  His  father,  mother,  and  friends 
came  to  have  their  last  interview;  and  his  mother's  courage 
appears  to  have  been  aroused  by  the  imminence  of  the  dan- 
ger, for  she  openly  begged  him  as  a  dying  man,  to  trust 
in  the  Supreme  God  alone,  and  to  pay  no  attention  to  any 
part  of  the  Mohammedan  doctrine.  An  old  Spaniard, 
who  was  a  slave  in  the  prison,  brought  him  a  cup  of  coffee, 
and  sitting  down  by  his  side,  said,  "  Turn  Christian  and 
recommend  your  soul  to  God  through  Christ  Jesus,  and 
he  will  save  you  unto  life  eternal."  At  small  intervals 
Ibrahim  repeated  this  three  or  four  times,  and  was  per- 
suaded that  his  mother  had  spoken  to  the  slave  on  this 
subject  before  her  departure  from  the  prison.  The  night 
he  passed  without  sleep,  and  at  six  the  next  morning  the 
attendants  of  the  prison  came  to  his  cell.  On  hearing  the 
doors  open  his  strength  forsook  him  and  he  fainted  away; — 
but,  when  recovered  from  his  swoon,  what  was  his  joy  to 
be  presented  with  his  pardon  !  !  In  the  course  of  that  night 
two  private  soldiers  confessed  that  they  had  murdered  the 
officers  in  requital  of  some  harsh  treatment  which  they  had 
received  at  their  hands : — they  were  instantly  executed. 
To  recompense  the  old  sla-"e,  Ibrahim  bought  him  his 
liberty,  gave  him  some  money,  and  sent  him  to  Spain ; 
and  the  slave  in  return  counselled  him  to  continue  his  trust 
in  the  Lord  Jesus,  who  had  so  wonderfully  delivered  him, 
and  to  do  all  the  good  that  lay  in  his  power  to  all  men,  not 
minding  to  what  sect  or  party  or  nation  they  belonged. 
From  this  time  an  insatiable  desire  after  a  farther  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Christian  religion  took  possession  of  his 
soul,  and  never  left  him  till  he  was  fully  converted  to  God. 

About  this  time  the  Russians  and  Turks  waged  war 
with  each  other  concerning  the  navigation  of  the  Black 
Sea,  and  it  fell  to  Ibrahim's  lot  to  be  engaged  in  the  cam- 


APPENDIX. 


333 


paign :  he  was  in  four  battles,  received  many  severe  wounds, 
and  at  last  was  taken  prisoner  in  the  Province  of  Walla- 
chia,  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube,  and  carried  to  Arzeni- 
cour,  about  fifty  miles  from  St.  Petersburgh  :  here  he  re- 
mained about  two  years,  and  obtained  his  liberty  as  the 
grateful  acknowledgment  of  a  lady  in  that  neighbourhood, 
whose  eyes  he  had  restored  to  health  and  strength.  The 
good  treatment  he  experienced,  his  freely  conversing  with 
the  Christians  of  that  place,  and  rejoicing  to  hear  of  the 
Christian  religion,  excited  the  envy  and  malevolence  of  two 
fellow  captives,  who  wrote  to  Constantinople,  that  Ibrahim 
had  turned  Christian,  and  that  there  was  every  reason  to 
believe  that  he  had  proved  a  traitor  to  his  country,  by  de- 
livering his  troops  into  the  hands  of  the  Russians.  These 
slanders  had  such  an  influence  at  Constantinople,  that  his 
brother  warned  him  not  to  return  till  all  had  been  investi- 
gated and  cleared  up.  Finding  that  there  was  no  hope  of 
his  being  able  speedily  to  revisit  his  native  country,  he 
embarked  on  board  of  a  ship  bound  to  Copenhagen,  and 
thence  he  sailed  for  Liverpool. 

While  Ibraham  was  a  prisoner  in  Russia,  his  parents, 
wives,  and  children,  had  removed  to  Ismail  as  a  place  of 
greater  security,  while  their  relative  was  under  suspicion; 
when  this  place  was  stormed  and  sacked  by  the  Russians, 
under  Suvarroff",  all  the  inhabitants  were  put  to  the  sword, 
and  the  whole  of  his  family  perished  in  the  hideous 
slaughter-house,  excepting  one  brother  and  sister,  who 
had  been  left  behind  to  take  care  of  their  father's  estate, 
near  Constantinople. 

From  Liverpool,  as  has  been  stated,  Ibrahim  came  to 
Dublin,  where  he  obtained  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Clarke, 
by  whom  he  was  more  fully  taught  the  way  of  salvation, 
and  inducted  into  the  Christian  Church :  he  continued  to 
maintain  an  upright  character,  seldom  passed  a  day  with- 
out spending  part  of  it  with  Mr.  Clarke's  family,  and 
20* 


234  APPENDIX. 

when  they  left  Dublin  for  Liverpool,  he  accompanied 
them,  remaining  during  Mr.  Clarke's  two  years'  abode  in 
that  town.  Manchester  was  the  next  place  to  which  the 
family  removed,  whither  also  Ibrahim  accompanied  them, 
and  after  residing  some  considerable  time  there  in  con- 
stant intercourse  with  Mr.  Clarke,  he  departed  for  Ame- 
rica, where  he  married  a  lady  of  the  Baptist  persuasion, 
continuing  faithful  to  his  religious  profession,  and  ulti- 
mately dying  the  death  of  the  righteous. 


The  following  are  some  of  the  Letters  which  were  writ- 
ten by  Mr.  Clarke  to  Miss  Mary  Cooke,  afterwards  Mrs 
Clarke. 


LETTERS. 


233 


LETTERS. 


I. 

Les  Terres,  Dec.  24,  1786. 

May  every  grace  that  constitutes  the  whole  mind  that  was  in  Jesus 
be  multiplied  unto  my  dear  Mary,  that  she  may  stand  perfect  and 
entire  in  the  will  of  God,  lacking  nothing !  Amen. 

You  once  asked  my  opinion  concerning  the  meaning  of  the  phrase 
"  the  Eternal  Son  of  God."  I  gave  it  you,  and  howsoever  singular, 
and  unauthorized  by  Doctors,  it  may  appear,  yet  I  never  had  any  rea- 
son to  alter  it,  nor  do  I  believe  I  ever  shall.  After  having  been  sorely 
tost  in  beating  about  the  common  bay  for  anchorage,  without  success, 
I  have  at  last,  through  the  tender  mercy  of  God,  found  it  where  1 
almost  ride  alone. 

As  long  as  I  believe  Jesus  Christ  to  be  the  Infinite  Eternal  I  AM, 
so  long  I  suppose  I  shall  reject  the  common  notion  of  his  "  Eternal 
Sonship ;"  not  only  because  it  is  an  absurdity  and  palpable  contradic- 
tion, but  because  I  cannot  find  it  in  the  Bible.  On  His  Godhead,  the 
foundation  of  the  salvation  of  my  soul  is  laid  :  every  thing  therefore 
that  derogates  from  that,  I  most  cordially  reject.  In  the  following 
extract  you  may  see  the  method  made  use  of  to  account  for  the  com- 
mon opinion,  and  make  it  appear  without  contradiction.  The  book 
from  which  I  have  made  this  extract,  is  entitled,  L'Evangile  Medite, 
par  L'Abbe  Giraudeau.    Tom.  i.  Meditat.  25*.    Sur  Jean  i.  1. 

"  The  Mysteries  of  the  Logos  (or  Word)  considered  with  respect  to 
Himself. 

"  1.  The  Evangelist  St.  John  represents  the  Word  IN  God  :  and 
first  his  Eternity.  '  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word.'  When  the 
world  was  created,  the  Word  then  existed.  If  it  then  existed  in  the 
beginning,  it  was  before  the  beginning  :  and  if  it  u>as  before  the 
beginning,  it  had  no  beginning :  therefore  it  is  eternal. 

"  2.  The  Evangelist  points  out  His  subsistence  as  a  distinct  person, 
for  he  says  '  the  Word  was  JX  God ;'  t.  e.  in  God  the  Father,  of  whom 
it  is  engendered,  or  produced  by  way  of  understanding,  or  knowledge. 
God  the  Father,  who  is  the  first  Person  in  the  Divine  Nature,  knew 
himself,  and  formed  by  His  knowledge,  a  perfect  image  of  His  sub- 


236 


LETTER!?. 


stance  i  this  is  His  Word,  His  Son,  and  a  Person  really  distinct  from 
Himself.  It  is  the  same  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  (of  whom  the  Evangelist 
does  not  speak  here,  because  his  design  was  only  to  make  Jesus  Christ 
known.)  The  Father  and  the  Son  love  one  another  with  an  infinite 
love ; — that  love  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  proceeds  from  the  Father  and 
the  Son  by  way  of  spiration,  and  who  makes  the  third  person  of  that 
adorable  Trinity. 

"  3.  The  Evangelist  points  out  His  Divinity,  '  The  word  VMS  God 
for  there  is  nothing  in  God  but  what  is  eternal,  and  there  is  nothing  in 
God  which  is  not,  God.    The  Father,  and  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit, are  three  Persons,  who  have  the  same  Nature,  and  same  Divi- 
nity, &c.  &c." 

Exotics  are  generally  more  esteemed  than  native  productions ;  but 
though  the  above  (especially  that  written  in  italics)  has  the  property 
of  exoticism  to  recommend  it,  yet  I  dare  say  you  will  be  in  no  haste  to 
incorporate  it  with  your  own  creed.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  let  that 
sacred  unfathomable  mystery  alone,  than  by  attempting  to  define  it,  to 
run  oneself  into  such  absurdities  and  futilities  as  the  above  ?  By  the 
Abbe's  method  every  man  or  woman  may  form  themselves  into  three 
distinct  persons.  For  let  a  man  only  know  himself,  then  he  has  a 
second  person ;  again,  let  him  love  himself  and  his  knowledge,  and 
then  he  has  a  third !  How  much  more  excellent  are  the  plain  words 
of  Scripture! — "There  are  Three  that  bear  record  in  heaven,  the 
Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  these  Three  are  One." 
What  a  piece  of  insanity  to  attempt  to  find  out  the  Godhead,  and 
to  ascertain  the  mode  of  its  existence  !  and  yet  this  was  the  method  the 
Schoolmen,  and  the  primitive  Fathers,  made  use  of  to  explain  the 
Trinity.    See  Chambers'  Encyclopaedia,  sub  voce. 


Guernsey,  Jan.  23,  1787. 
Last  evening  I  arrived  in  safety  from  Jersey,  after  an  absence  of 
only  seven  days.  (A  few  minutes  after  my  arrival  I  received  yours 
of  the  12th  instant,  which  had  arrived  here  on  the  20th.)  My  voyage 
has  been  useful  both  to  my  body  and  soul.  I  met  with  some  deeply 
experienced  Christians,  compared  with  whom  I  am  but  a  very  little 
child.  An  elderly  and  a  young  woman  are  the  most  remarkable 
The  former  seems  to  possess  all  the  solemnity  and  majesty  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  she  lias  gone  and  is  going  through  acute  corporeal  sufferings, 
but  these  add  to  her  apparent  dignity :  her  eyes,  every  feature  of  her 
face,  to  ether  with  all  her  words,  are  uncommonly  expressive  of  the 
word  ETERNITY,  in  that  importance  in  which  it  is  considered  by 
those  whose  minds  are  devoted  to  deep  reflection.   To  her  I  put  myself 


LETTERS. 


frequently  to  school,  during  my  short  abode  in  the  island,  and  could  not 
avoid  learning  ?«i/cA,  unless  I  had  been  invincibly  ignorant,  or  dia- 
bolically proud.  The  latter  seems  possessed  of  all  that  cheerful  hap- 
piness and  pure  love,  which  so  abundantly  characterize  the  Gospel  of 
Christ.  Peace,  meekness,  and  joy,  judiciously  immingled  by  the  saga- 
cious economy  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  constitute  a  glorious  something, 
affectinglij  evident  in  all  her  deportment,  which  I  find  myself  quite  at 
a  loss  to  describe.  Two  such  I  know  not  that  I  have  before  found  : 
they  are  indeed  the  rare  and  the  excellent  of  the  earth.  A  summary 
of  both  characters  seems  comprised  in  this :— of  the  former  it  may 
be  truly  said, 

"  Not  grave  with  sternness," 

— of  the  latter, 

"  Nor  with  lightness  free." 
You  are  excellent  at  ideal  realization,  I  leave  you  to  indulge  it  here  in 
respect  of  both  persons,  without  being  much  afraid  of  its  running  into 
the  excessive. 


I  do  not  intend  to  write  a  Treatise  on  Conscience,  and  those  other 
punctilios  connected  with  it :  I  desire  you  to  supply  my  lack  of  ser- 
vice :  I  know  you  are  capable  enough  unless  your  health  forbids. 
For  my  own  part,  I  am  well  assured  I  shall  never  make  an  author : 
were  there  no  other  reasons,  my  ideas  flow  too  quick  for  the  slow  pro- 
cess of  black  upon  white.  The  thought,  therefore,  /  entirely  relin- 
quish. What  I  spoke  to  you  relative  to  the  "  Eternal  Sonship"  of  the 
Almighty's  Fellow,  is  not  a  slight  opinion  with  me,  but  a  deeply  gra- 
ven sentiment.  I  have  read  some  of  the  strongest  reasonings  of  the 
Schoolmen  and  the  Fathers  of  the  church  on  this  head,  but  their  finest 
hypotheses  appear  so  unmeaning,  trifling,  and  futile,  as  to  afford  no 
satisfaction  to  a  sincere  inquirer  after  essential  truth.  I  believe  that 
which  ice  discover  of  this  glorious  truth  is  the  opinion  which  Eternity 
will  exhibit  only  in  greater  degrees,  and  with  more  abundant  evidence. 
It  appears  to  me  that  the  Arian  and  Socinian  schemes,  cannot  only  be 
strongly  combated,  but  effectually  overthrown,  by  a  firm  adherence  to, 
and  judicious  infering  from,  these  propositions.  As  Arianism,  &c, 
abounds  now,  I  think  the  Church  of  God  has  much  need  of  a  Treatise 
of  this  kind  :  were  I  equal  to  the  task  it  should  soon  appear  in  the 
world ;  but  here  I  must  stop,  finding  much  reason  to  adore  my  gra- 
cious Maker,  notwithstanding  he  has  not  given  me  adequate  abilities. 


I  expect,  according  to  your  intimated  promise,  a  whole  book  of 
"  Detached  Thoughts"  from  you  when  I  see  you.  It  has  been  winter 
with  my  genius  for  some  time  past:  hardly  the  germs  of  happy 
thought  on  important  topics  have  been  apparent.    I  find  I  cannot 


236 


LETTERS. 


create  genius,  though  I  can  obliterate  or  at  least  stupify  it :  but  how- 
ever this  may  be,  I  find  it  possible  to  love,  fear  and  obey  an  astonish- 
ingly kind  and  merciful  God.  Surely  his  name  deserves  all  the  praises 
heaven  and  earth  can  yield,  for  his  long-suffering  tenderness  towards 
me,  who  am — God  knows  what ! 

You  ask  me,  "  Cannot  yoti  join  with  me  in  sympathetic  bearing 

of  Mr.  's  trouble  ¥'  i.  e.  for  the  loss  of  his  amiable  wife.  I 

really  think  he  v/ho  lias  lost  an  amiable  pious  wife,  (such  I  believe  Mrs. 
 was,)  has  sustained  the  greatest  loss  he  could  on  this  side  eter- 
nity next  to  the  loss  of  his  God,  if  he  had  one  :  and  that  it  is  a  duty  to 
mourn  with  those  who  mourn,  I  cordially  allow.    "  Well  then,  will 

you  not  sympathise  with  Mr.  V    I  must  be  assured  first  that 

he  mourns  before  I  can  mourn  with  him.  But  I  have  strong  reasons 
to  induce  me  to  believe  that  he  mourns  not,  though  the  wife,  the  friend, 
and  more  than  friend,  is  dead  !  You  are  perhaps  surprised.  TaKe 
the  following  extract  from  a  letter  from  one  of  the  excellent  of  the 
earth,  who  I  know  is  incapable  of  lying  or  exaggerating.    "  The 

day  after  I  received  your  letter,  Mrs.  died :  we  expect  that 

Mrs.  will  soon  leave  US,  as  it  is  likely  that  Mr.  and  she 

will  soon  be  married."  Seeing  this  is  the  case,  I  ask,  is  the  present  con- 
nexion, and  a  mourning  for  death's  last  inroad,  compatible?  Is  there 
any  room  for  you  or  me,  think  you,  to  bear  a  "  sympathetic  part"  in 
sorrows  that  no  longer  exist  1  I  deplore  her  not :  she  is  taken  away 
from  the  evil  (that  is  likely)  to  come !    Let  us  catch  her  mantle ! 


You  cannot  be  too  much  in  earnest  for  full  salvation,  therefore  con- 
tinue pleading  the  "  Promise  of  the  Father,"  for  it  is  yea  and  amen  to 
you,  the  blessing  is  as  free  as  the  air  you  breathe, — the  willingness  of 
God  to  fulfil  his  promise  to  you  infinitely  exceeds  my  description 
and  your  conception  :  I  know  unbelief  will  either  assert  the  contrary, 
or  raise  some  difficulty,  but  dont  give  ear  to  it,  remember, 

"  Faith,  mighty  frith,  the  promise  feet, 
And  looks  to  that  alone  ; 
Laughs  at  impossibilities, 
And  cries,  It  shall  be  done." 

Salvation  by  faith  is  a  more  simple  plain  easy  doctrine,  than  one  in 
a  thousand  imagines.  That  complexity  and  difficulty  in  which  it  is 
generally  viewed,  keep  numbers  from  going  up  at  once  to  possess  the 
good  land.  I  allow,  so  long  as  mystical  divinity  is  consulted,  the  pro- 
mise of  His  coming  must  be  looked  upon  as  exceedingly  distant,  as 
that  only  breathes  "  a  long  work  will  God  make  upon  the  earth  ;"  but 
the  word  of  faith  by  the  gospel  says  the  kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand :  yea, 
the  means  of  receiving  it  is  in  thy  heart,  and  in  thy  mouth.  In  short, 
looking  on  it  as  distant,  will  make  it  distant:  whereas,  believing  it 
as  near,  will  bring  it  near. 


LETTERS. 


239 


III. 

April  4,  1787. 

Being  attacked  from  so  many  quarters  there  was  little  view  of  my 
lingering  long,  especially  as  I  had  been  slowly  wasting  for  some 
months  before.  The  people  were  greatly  alarmed,  and  proclaimed  a 
day  of  fasting,  prayer,  and  weeping,  to  snatch  their  poor  preacher 
from  the  grave.  Their  sorrow  caused  me  to  feel : — for  myself,  I  could 
neither  weep  nor  repine  ;  but  I  could  hardly  forbear  the  former  on 
their  account. — The  Doctor,  on  his  second  visit,  found  that  I  was 
severely  attacked  by  the  jaundice;  and  so  took  the  cure  of  that  first  in 
hand :  but  withal  observed  that  I  should  not  regain  my  health  properly, 
nor  be  free  from  bilious  complaints,  till  I  resumed  my  former  method — 
of  riding.  Through  much  mercy,  I  am  now  much  mended :  my  cough 
is  almost  entirely  removed ;  and  my  doctor  has  this  day  informed 
me  that  my  tawny  disorder  begins  to  abate.  I  am  now  only  confined 
to  my  room ;  but  am  very  much  enfeebled.  Indeed,  I  am  little  else 
(considered  abstractedly  from  my  spirit)  than  a  quantity  of  bones  and 
sinews,  wrapt  up  in  none  of  the  best  coloured  skins.  But  this  also  has, 
and  will,  work  together  with  other  providential  dispensations  for  my 
good.  When  I  was  almost  at  the  worst  I  opened  my  Septuagint  on 
the  91st  Psalm,  and  on  the  three  last  verses,  which  are  much  more 
emphatical  than  the  English,  particularly  the  middle  clause  of  the 
15th  verse:  "/  am  with  him  in  affliction."  Glory  be  to  God  my 
Saviour,  I  found  it  to  be  so  !  O,  may  I  to  eternity  lie  in  deep  humility 
at  His  feet,  recognizing  the  immenseness  of  His  mercy,  and  the  utter 
viler  unworthiness  of  the  subject  on  which  it  has  wrought  so  many 
miracles,  truly  expressive  of  its  own  unconfined  benignity  !  Do  you 
wish  to  know  how  I  was  taken  care  of  during  my  sickness  ?  I  indeed 
lacked  nothing  that  could  be  procured ;  nor  was  there  any  difficulty  to 
procure  persons  to  set  up  with  me  day  or  ni<rht :  yea,  I  had  much  favour 
in  the  sight  even  of  the  Egyptians.  May  the  good  Lord  to  eternity 
reward  them  for  what  they  have  done  for  His  unworthy  servant. 


IV. 

Guernsey,  May  22,  1787. 
You  will  easily  see  by  the  place  of  date  that  I  am  arrived  :  and,  (to 
the  honour  of  my  gracious  God  be  it  acknowledged.)  in  perfect  safety. 
On  the  19th  I  wrote  to  you  from  Southampton,  which  I  hope  you  have 
duly  received.  Saturday  the  captain  informed  me  that  he  intended  to 
sail  the  next  morning  ;  in  consequence  of  which  1  got  myself  in  readi- 
ness and  sent  my  trunk  aboard.    A3  eight  wa3  the  hour  fixed  for 


240 


LETTERS. 


embarkation,  several  persons,  Dissenters,  &e.,  entreated  me  to  give 
them  a  sermon  before  I  departed,  for  which  I  should  have  time  enough 
if  I  began  at  half  past  six.  I  consented,  and  a  good  company,  for  the 
time  and  place,  met.  The  Lord  was  with  me,  and  gave  much  liberty 
to  expose,  and  power  to  shake  the  sandy  foundation  of  spiritual  still- 
ness, consisting  of  hopes,  trusts,  conjectures,  and  possibles,  on  which 
several  had  been  building  their  expectation  of  glory. 

The  good  Lord  quickened  the  people  much,  and  though  my  work 
was  done  at  the  expense  of  almost  every  particle  of  my  strength  ;  yet 
was  I  sufficiently  repaid  in  finding  that  any  good  was  done.  Well  it 
was,  that  our  sailing  was  postponed  till  two  o'clock,  as  I  was  quite 
unwell,  and  consequently  incapable  of  going.  But  at  that  hour  I 
embarked,  being  escorted  to  the  boat  by  several  serious  Presbyterians, 
who  had  heard  me  preach,  and  who  wished  me  more  blessedness  than 
their  tongues  were  capable  of  expressing.  The  wind  was  a  little 
against  us  ;  but  as  there  was  a  good  breeze,  and  our  vessel  an  excel- 
lent sailer,  we  soon  lost  sight  of  Southampton,  and  next  day  by  noon 
were  abreast  of  Cape  la  Hogue,  in  Normandy.  Here  we  were  obliged 
to  cast  anchor  in  about  thirty-four  fathom  water,  having  a  strong  tide 
against  us,  and  scarcely  a  breath  of  wind  to  carry  us  forward. 
When  the  tide  served  we  weighed  anchor,  and  stood  on  our  course ; 
but  made  very  little  progress,  the  breeze  being  so  scant  and  small.  At 
last  we  got  to  the  Island  of  Sark,  three  leagues  from  Guernsey,  where 
we  thought  we  should  be  obliged  to  anchor  all  night,  the  tide  in  our 
favour  being  almost  exhausted,  and  the  wind  changed  to  right  a-hcad. 
What  a  mortification  !  to  be  thus  detained  on  sea  in  sight  of  our  lodg- 
ing? In  these  circumstances  some  were  seriously  calling, —  Blow  pre- 
cious breeze.  Others  whistling  to  invite  it ;  some  chafing  and  others 
striving  (as  they  called  it)  "  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  market." 


I  proceed  to  give  you  some  account  of  my  company  : — We  had  on 
board  a  captain  of  the  army,  a  lieutenant  of  a  man  of  war,  some  other 
military  officers,  and  some  gentlemen  so  called.  I  might  almost  stop 
here,  as  a  few  inferences  deduced  from  well  known  premises,  would 
give  my  dear  Mary  a  tolerable  estimate  of  the  "  men  and  their  con- 
versation." Let  it  suffice  to  say  we  had  at  first  some  swearing,  whichj 
by  the  grace  of  God,  I  reproved:  by  and  bye  they  began,  (though  on 
the  Sabbath,)  to  sing  songs,  as  if  it  had  been  their  Easter  Tuesday. 
This  I  immediately  remonstrated  against,  which  brought  on  a  long 
altercation,  in  which  the  Lord  enabled  me  to  confound  the  whole  of 
them :  for  the  present  they  desisted ;  but  again  they  renewed  their 
singing  with  double  vigor.  I  stepped  up  to  the  quarter-deck,  on  which 
they  were  assembled,  and  charged  the  principal  of  them—"  in  the 
name  of  the  living  God  to  be  silent,"  adding,  "  I  will  not  suffer  such 
profanation  of  the  Lord's-day."    He  stopped  and  asked  mc,  "  What 


LETTERS. 


Ml 


authority  I  had  for  acting  as  I  did  1  and  who  I  was  V  I  answered,  "  I 
am  a  servant  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  authority  by  which  I  prohibit 
your  breach  of  the  Sabbath,  I  have  from  God."  Singing  tempers 
were  soon  abandoned ;  and  I  was  apparently  brought  into  several 
dangers  without  fearing  any.  Glory  to  Christ,  He  kept  me  meek, 
fearless,  and  as  bold  as  a  lion.  The  consequence  was,  being  con- 
founded they  were  obliged  to  be  calm,  and  their  bacchanalian  songs  so 
effectually  stopped,  that  the  devil  had  not  the  honour  of  a  single  verse 
during  the  remainder  of  the  Sabbath.  I  kept  my  authority  the  whole 
voyage,  and  continued,  with  affectionate  boldness,  (God  abundantly 
helping  me,)  to  reprove  all  their  vices.  I  plainly  see  that  the  feeblest 
servant  of  God  may  be,  (if  faithful,)  an  instrument  of  preventing  (at 
least)  a  multitude  of  iniquities,  and  shewing  forth  the  honour  and  glory 
of  God  before  men,  which  will  be  either  to  their  conviction  or  confu- 
sion, according  to  the  use  they  make  of  it. 


Seven  miles  beyond  Warminster. 

My  Dear  Mary, 

Mr.  Slade  has  no  doubt  informed  you  that  I  was  disappointed  of  a 
place  in  the  stage,  by  its  being  uncommonly  full.    I  was  quite  willing 

to  have  returned  to  T  ,  providing  I  could  have  had  a  passage 

next  day  ascertained  :  but  this  the  coachman  told  me  he  could  not  pro- 
mise, as  every  place  for  the  next  day  was  already  bespoke.  A  cart 
for  Sarum  was  standing  at  the  door  of  the  inn,  just  ready  to  depart :  I 
agreed  with  the  proprietor  and  embarked  ;  but  the  extreme  noise,  and 
only  a  cord  across  to  lean  my  back  against,  rendered  the  ride  rather 
disagreeable.  Does  my  dear  M.  desire  to  know  how  my  feelings  are  ? 
What  did  I  say  when  I  departed  ?  Was  it  that  "  a  separation  from 
the  Lord  would  be  only  worse  V  I  say  so  still :  though  between  the 
present,  and  the  above  separation,  there  is  no  parallel,  yet  this  I  think 
is  the  next  to  it.  You  thought  you  should  be  obliged  to  preach  to 
me.  And  suppose  you  had  begun,  what  would  you  have  exhorted 
me  tol  Why  "Do  not  murmur  nor  repine."  /  do  neither.  "Do 
not  love  inordinately."  I  think  I  can  here  plead  not  guilty.  Never- 
theless my  sensations  have  been  truly  poignant.  Had  I  an  arm  cut 
off  by  a  very  slow  process,  might  I  not  feel  much  pain,  and  yet  not 
(ransgress  t 

"  Nature  unreprov'd  might  shod  a  tear." 
There  might  be  l:  sorrow  without  sin."  Is  there  not  more  than  an  arm 
severed  from  me  at  the  present  1    There  is.    And  could  I  not  as  soon 
divest  myself  of  muscles  and  nerves,  as  not  feel? 
21 


342 


LETTERS. 


Salisbury,  9  o'clock,  p.  m.— Fatigued  enough  1  arrived  at  7  o'clock. 
— After  I  left  you  I  felt  rather  a  sudden  alteration  in  my  mind  :  a  gloomy 
resignation  (tolerably  good  in  its  kind)  took  place,  and  was  "  fast 
reared"  by  a  stoical  insensibility.  In  these  circumstances  I  remained, 
till,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  out  of  town,  I  met  with  Father  Knapp  : — 
his  appearance  awakened  in  my  (almost  senseless)  spirit  some  of  the 
most  tender  sensations :  I  shook  hands,  but  could  not  speak  to  him.  I 
passed  on, — grieved  a  little, — looked  upwards, — and  was  once  more 
calm.  I  strove  to  look  a  little  into  futurity,  to  spy  out,  if  possible, 
even  a  probable  prospect  of  a  return,  which  might  be  a  means  of  pre- 
sent consolation :  but  this  my  kind  God  absolutely  refused  to  indulge 
me  in  ; — not  permitting  me  to  see  a  hair's  breadth  beyond  that  indivi- 
sible point,  which  makes  the  present  in  time:  and  thus  I  continue:  my 
soul,  filled  with  embryo  somethings,  which  it  cannot  express,  nor 
hardly  conceive,  struggles  out,  Thy  will  be  done!  I  am  now  so 
fatigued  and  exhausted  that  I  am  able  to  write  no  more  to-night. 


Mon  Plaisir,  October  19,  1787. 

My  Dear  M., 

Through  the  great  mercy  of  my  gracious  God,  I  am  landed  once 
more  in  Guernsey.  May  His  great  name  be  blessed  for  ever !  I  wrote 
to  you  from  Alderney  a  letter,  bearing  the  two-fold  dates  of  the  16th, 
and  17th,  instant;  in  which  I  informed  you  of  my  arrival  there,  on 
the  evening  of  the  15th,  and  the  dangers  which  (through  the  aid  of 
God)  we  escaped.  I  need  not  here  recapitulate  or  particularize  what 
in  that  epistle  I  have  said,  as  I  hope  you  will  receive  it  safely  ere  this 
can  come  to  hand.  At  present  I  can  add  but  a  little,  being  almost  worn 
out  by  the  severe  fatigues  through  which  I  have  been  lately  led.  You 
must,  therefore,  excuse  ihe/ew  lines  which  give  you  little  other  infor- 
mation than  that  of  my  arrival.  However,  I  will  endeavor  to  add  a 
little  by  way  of  supplement  to  the  other  Journal  accounts,  all  of  which 
I  hope  you  have  safely  received.  Wednesday  being  too  stormy  to 
attempt  to  sail  for  Guernsey,  I  had  the  opportunity  of  preaching  once 
more  to  a  people  prepared  to  receive  the  Word  of  Life.  God  was 
truly  with  ine,  and  much  I  err  if  conviction  and  persuasion  did  not 
accompany  the  words  He  enabled  mc  to  speak.  The  gracious  Lord 
has  made  an  inroad  here  on  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  which  I  humbly 
hope  shall  be  retained  with  increasing  advantage.  Thursday,  the 
18th,  came,  and  with  it  brought  a  tempest  from  NW.  I  had  been 
forced  almost  to  believe  (notwithstanding  the  narrow  escape  for  my 
life  between  Cowes  and  Yarmouth,  and  the  tooth-skin  delivery  in  get- 


LETTERS. 


243 


ting  to  Alderney,)  that  my  difficulties  were  not  all  yet  at  an  end: 
Wednesday  night  I  could  not  rest  well,  notwithstanding  my  former 
fatigue;  my  busy  spirit  foreboding  something  to  which  I  could  not  give 
a  name,  kept  all  the  avenues  of  my  senses  unlocked.  I  got  up, 
and  after  having  taken  a  little  breakfast,  I  was  summoned  to  the 
pier  to  sail  for  Guernsey.  I  set  off  accompanied  by  some  friends  who 
came  to  escort  me  to  the  port,  where  I  found  the  vessel  waiting  only 
for  me.  Truly  it  blew  a  hurricane  ;  but  the  captain  was  determined 
to  sail.  We  were  badly  manned  before,  but  now  it  was  much  worse, 
as  one  of  our  sailors  having  got  ten  shillings,  was  determined  not  to 
stir  till  he  had  drunk  it  out.  Wc  loosed  out  from  the  pier-head,  and 
got  under  sail  ;  but  although  we  had  two  reefs  in  our  main  sail,  the 
sea  ran  so  high,  and  the  wind  was  so  boisterous,  we  soon  found  our 
vessel  had  more  canvass  than  she  could  live  under:  we  were  in  conse- 
quence thereof  obliged  to  lie  to,  that  we  might  take  down  our  weather 
jib  sheet,  and  put  a  small  one  in  its  place.  I  had  taken  a  stand  at  the 
bulk  head,  from  whence  I  had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  every  thing 
around  me.  And  what  think  you  I  saw  clearest?  Why  the  awful 
aspect  of  death  impressed  on  everything.  A  sensation,  unusual  to 
me,  sunk  my  soul  as  to  the  centre  of  the  earth,  or  bottom  of  the  abyss. 
"  Alas !  thought  I,  and  am  I  indeed  afraid  of  death'?  Is  this  the  issue 
of  matters  with  me  1  Lord  Jesus,  into  thy  hands  I  commit  my  spirit! 
on  the  infinite  merit  of  thy  blood  1  rest  my  soul !"  Immediately  all 
was  calm:  and  this  enabled  me  to  take  a  full  look  at  death,  who  was 
shortly  to  pass  by  in  dreadful  port.  The  sailors  being  unhandy,  the 
v-eather  jib  sheet  was  long  in  setting,  and  the  vessel  during  the  time, 
was  wearing  towards  a  range  of  dreadful  rocks.  The  sea  continuing 
to  run  high,  and  the  wind  blowing  fiercely,  brought  us  so  much  in 
leeway,  that  the  vessel  would  not  answer  the  helm,  but  drove  among 
the  rocks.  In  a  few  moments  all  was  commotion!  exertion!  and  des- 
pair! and  aery  more  dreadful  than  that  of  fire  at  midnight,  issued 
from  all  quarters,  "  Cut  away  the  boat  !  got  ready  the  boat !  the  ves- 
sel is  lost!  the  vessel  is  lost!"  The  people  on  the  pier  (for  we  were 
not  far  distant  from  it)  seeing  our  danger,  and  believing  our  ship- 
wreck inevitable,  got  out  a  boat  with  four  strong  men  to  try  to  save 
the  lives  of  the  passengers  and  sailors.  At  this  solemn  crisis,  fell, 
pallid  despair,  had  miscreated  every  face: — with  the  utmost  safety  I 
believe  I  may  aver,  scarcely  a  particle  of  courage  or  equanimity 
remained  in  any,  save  in  a  captain  of  regulars,  and  your  A.  C. 
Through  the  grace  of  God  my  soul  was  quite  unmoved :  I  waited  like 
the  captain  I  o  meet  my  fate  with  firmness:  nor  did  my  countenance 
or  actions  betray  any  anxiety  or  carking  care.  In  the  moment,  when 
a  dreadful  rock  within  two  or  three  yards  of  our  lee  bow,  gave  us 
every  thing  to  dread,  and  took  away  the  last  grain  of  hope,  God,  who 
sits  above  the  water-floods,  by  an  unseen  arm  hove  the  vessel  to  lee- 
ward; she  past  the  rock  as  within  a  hair's-breadth,  answered  once 


244 


LETTERS. 


more  her  helm,  and  from  the  lip  of  eternity  we  escaped  into  the  pier! 

0  Lord  God !  how  marvellous  are  thy  doings  in  the  earth !  and  how 
dost  thou  manifest  thy  wonders  in  the  mighty  waters ! 

"  The  6ea  has  now  contest  thy  power, 
And  given  me  back  to  thy  command  ; 
It  could  not,  Lord,  my  life  devour, 
Safe  in  the  hollow  of  thy  hand." 

I  cannot  help  saying  something  here  by  way  of  eulogium  on  the 
brave  military  captain.  His  great  presence  of  mind,  his  action,  and  his 
courage,  shewed  him  to  be  a  great  man:  and  had  he  vital  religion,  I 
am  persuaded,  a  greater  (in  his  profession)  perhaps  Europe  could  not 
boast  of.  His  name  is  Hanfield,  I  think  of  the  22nd  regiment.  I  must 
say,  it  was  nothing  to  my  honour,  that  I  stood  in  the  trying  time  with 
courage :  it  was  the  grace  of  Christ,  and  that  only  which  enabled  me 
to  turn  my  eyes  undaunted  on  the  tomb,  the  watery  tomb.  To  God 
only  wise  and  gracious,  be  the  eternal  glory  ascribed,  through  Christ 
Jesus !  Amen. 

Perhaps  you  will  be  surprised  at  what  follows.  Though  we  but  a 
few  moments  before,  escaped  destruction,  yet  the  desperate  captain  of 
the  vessel  would  go  out  again  !  I  thought,  "  seeing  God  has  saved  my 
life  from  going  down  into  the  pit,  it  would  be  tempting  his  providence 
to  go  out  again  with  them,  I  will  therefore  take  a  boat  and  go  imme- 
diately to  shore."  But  I  again  thought,  "  Will  it  not  reflect  dishonour 
on  the  religion  I  profess,  and  the  sacred  character  I  bear  1  If  all  go 
out  again,  and  /  stay  behind,  will  it  not  be  reported,  the  Methodist 
Preacher  was  afraid  of  death;  his  boasted  spiritual  evidences  of  sal- 
vation did  not  free  him  from  its  power  ?  'Tis  granted,  it  may  be  so  : 
in  the  name  of  Jesus !  I  will  once  more  venture !"  Perhaps  my  detr 
M.  may  be  induced  to  say,  "The  reasoning  was  absurd,  and  the 
action  condemnable."  "Well,  be  it  so:  but  out  I  went,  and  what  I  suf- 
fered during  the  passage,  my  pen  cannot  describe. — Every  minute, 
and  sometimes  oftener,  the  sea  washed  over  the  vessel,  the  violent  agi- 
tation made  me  sick,  almost  unto  death;  and  vomiting  till  the  blood 
came,  was  but  a  part  of  what  I  suffered : — but  of  this  dreary  tale  I 
shall  say  no  more.  The  things  that  a  person  buys  dear  are  generally 
more  prized  and  better  regarded,  than  those  that  come  cheap.    I  think 

1  have  not  yet  paid  your  full  price,  though  the  part  I  have  borne  is 
known  only  to  God.  If  it  be  possible  to  get  you  under  value,  I  would 
say,  Lord,  excuse  me  from  paying  more !  I  landed  on  St.  Peter's  pier, 
before  five  o'clock,  p.  m.,  and  found  a  people  nearly  as  glad  to  see  me 
as  I  was  to  feel  myself  on  terra  jirma  again.  I  went  to  the  post- 
office,  and  got  yours  of  the  6th  inst.,  I  was  surprised  to  find  no  more, 
seeing  /  had  written  so  many. 

When  I  began  this  epistle  I  did  not  purpose  to  write  the  half  of 
what  I  have  written  ;  being  at  present  so  worn  out  and  so  unwell. 
See  what  God  has  done  for  me.  and  praise  Him  in  my  behalf. 


LETTERS. 


245 


VII. 

Mon  Plaisir,  Nov.  25,  1787. 
Last  evening  I  received  your  very  welcome  epistle,  bearing  date  the 
00th  instant,  which  came  in  good  time,  and  for  which  1  most  affection- 
ately thank  my  dear  Mary.  The  temptations,  relative  to  your  welfare, 
which  I  have  lately  gone  through,  (though  in  a  measure  healed  by  the 
receipt  of  the  present,)  yet  have  left  a  solemn  impressed  scar  on  my 
spirit.  Perhaps  it  was  my  waking  solicitude  which  induced  me  to  dream 
some  time  ago,  that  I  had  received  an  epistle  from  sister  B — y,  inform- 
ing me  that  my  Mary  was  no  longer  an  inhabitant  of  the  earth  ;  and 
enclosed  was  an  oration  which  had  been  delivered  at  her  funeral,  part 
of  which  I  still  perfectly  remember.  Even  in  sleep  how  capable  is 
the.  soul  of  being  distressed  1  What  think  you  I  then  felt'!  and  what 
think  you  I  felt  even  when  the  visionary  cause  of  my  distress  had  fled 
away  before  opened  eyes,  and  recollected  senses? — Truly  my  soul  can 
say  that,  the  falsity  of  my  dream  was  more  preci'ius  to  me  than  the 
whole  globe,  had  it  been  in  my  possession.  But  the  impressions  left 
upon  my  mind  by  this  miserable  vision,  did  not  vanish  as  speedily  as 
the  thing  itself.  What  a  mercy  is  it  to  be  kept  from  the  vagaries  of 
an  unreasoned  spirit,  and  the  influences  of  the  Spiritual  Wickednesses 
in  the  night  season  1  Indeed  so  perplexed  have  I  been  of  late  with 
similar  matters  in  my  sleep,  that  at  whatever  time  I  awoke  in  the  night, 
I  have  thought  it  better  to  arise  at  once,  than  to  put  it  in  the  power 
of  my  enemies  to  perplex  me  any  farther.  Another  reason  for  this 
perhaps  was,  I  have  enjoyed  but  imperfect  health  at  least  for  eight 
days  past,  which  derangement  of  bodily  organs,  afforded  my  spirit  an 
opportunity  to  employ  itself  in  such  vnfrirndly  fancies;  or  rendered 
it  less  capable  of  resisting  those  malevolent  beings  which  walk  the 
earth  unseen.  Yet,  hitherto  could  he  come,  but  no  farther:  blessed  be 
God !  Satan  cannot  exceed  his  chain.  I  dare  say  my  dear  Mary 
would  be  willing  to  know  particulars  relative  to  I  he  last  mentioned 
affair.  On  the.  18th  instant,  (not  knowing  my  weakness,  and  having 
a  very  large  attentive  congregation,  and  being  willing  to  speak  for 
eternity,)  I  exceeded  my  time,  and  hurt  myself  much  :  I  have  not  yet 
got  the  better  of  it,  but  I  think  I  shall  strive  against  myself,  and  com- 
mit less  errors  of  this  kind  in  future,  than  I  have  hitherto  done.  Again, 
as  the,  winter  comes  on,  and  the  time  for  walking  is  uncomfortable,  I 
abide  in  the  house,  and  this  lack  of  exercise  injures  me  not  a  trifle.  It 
is  true,  I  have  many  trips  to  and  from  town,  but  these  do  not  contri- 
bute much  to  my  bodily  welfare,  as  they  are  taken  generally  before 
day,  and  after  night,  which  are  the  seasons  I  preach  at.  I  know  not 
really  how  I  shall  prevail  on  myself  to  make  an  amendment  here; 
having  entered  so  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  study,  every  moment  seems 
precious,  and  the  day  too  short  for  the  work  I  appoint  it.  I  really  can- 
21* 


£46 


LETTERS. 


not  spare  time  even  to  write  to  several  of  my  friends  to  whom  I  am 
in  epistolary  debt !  no  one  but  my  Mary,  stands  a  pleasing  candi- 
date for  a  single  letter,  and  to  her  I  can  write  as  I  used  to  speak : 
it  being  the  only  substitute  for  the  conversation  of  which  I  am  now 
deprived. 

Do  you  wish  to  be  acquainted  with  my  studies  ?  And  shall  1  make 
an  open  confession  to  you,  and  thereby  subject  myself  to  your  cen- 
sure 1  I  would  just  say,  I  yet  pursue  my  old,  and  have  made  some 
additions  to  my  former  plan.  French  certainly  must  not  be  entirely 
forgotten  ;  I  know  not  but  that  meets  with  injustice :  the  Septuagint 
I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  relinquish;  how  can  I,  seeing  my  esteem 
for  it  rather  increases :  the  writing  of  occasional  notes  I  must  continue, 
though  perhaps  none  will  think  them  worth  reading  but  myself. 
Another  kind  of  writing  which  in  general  employs  all  my  brains, 
shares  not  a  small  part  of  my  time : — farther,  occasional  reading  and 
translating,  take  up  some  more,  and  the  book  which  I  have  to  trans- 
late for  Mr.  Wesley,  (which  I  have  not  yet  begun,)  must  come  shortly, 
and  this  I  think  will  hardly  leave  me  time  to  take  my  food.  Again,— 
"What!  more  yet'?"  O  yes,  Philosophical  Researches  have  not  a 
slender  part  of  the  day  and  night.  It  appears,  my  dear  Mary,  that  my 
spirit  has  lately  got  more  latitude  and  longitude  than  it  ever  had  before : 
the  earth  does  not  now  content  it,  though  it  knows  but  a  trifle  of  that, 
it  must  needs  understand  the  heavens,  and  call  all  the  stars  by  their 
names.  Truly  I  do  find  an  ability  for  speculations  of  this  kind,  which 
I  never  had  before :  but  I  am  shackled, — perhaps  it  is  well  so, — I  have 
not  glasses  to  perform  the  lucubrations  I  would.  I  own,  my  dear  Mary, 
this  may  be  an  error,  I  freely  own  it  to  you:  will  your  tenderness  for 
me  permit  you  to  reprove  me.  sliarply,  if  you  see  I  am  wrong  1  But 
shall  I  speak  a  word  for  myself?  I  would  then  say ;  I  do  indeed  find 
this  is  not  a  barren  study  to  my  mind  ;  my  soul  is  thereby  led  to  the 
Framer  of  unnumbered  worlds,  and  the  omnipotency  of  my  Redeemer 
appears  illustriously  stamped  on  the  little  out  of  the  almost  infinite, 
which  I  am  able  to  view.  I  stand  astonished  at  the  amazing  wisdom, 
power,  and  goodness  of  our  excellent  God,  which  I  now  more  particu- 
larly discover  impressed  on  every  thing  that  falls  within  the  little 
sphere  of  my  understanding.  Did  I  not  find  it  to  have  this  effect,  I 
could  not  in  conscience  pursue  studies  of  the  kind.  Yet  do  not  think, 
my  dear,  that  I  speak  thus,  in  order  to  prohibit  the  censures  I  seemed 
at  first  to  invite ;  not  at  all.  On  the  contrary,  I  would  suggest  the  fol- 
lowing, to  give  you  room  for  censure  if  you  deem  it  applicable,  viz. 
"  May  there  not  be  more  simple  methods  found  out,  which  have  a 
directer  tendency  to  cultivate  the  soul,  than  some  of  these  I  pursue'?"— 
Truly  I  can  say,  my  soul's  most  earnest  wish  is  to  live  to  Him  who 
died  and  rose  again  for  mc.  O,  my  Mary!  what  do  I  owe  Him! 
His  long-suffering  with,  and  mercies  to  me,  almost  stupify  my  soul, 
when  in  reflection.    JESUS!  be  Thou  the  centre  to  which  my  soul 


LETTERS. 


shall  incessantly  gravitate!  yea  more,  let  it  come  more  particularly 
into  contact,  and  rest  in  Thee  for  ever  and  ever !  Amen. 


VIII. 

Mon  Plaisir,  Dec.  2,  1787. 
It  is  strange  to  see  how  times  change ;— last  winter  I  had  in  general 
a  Congregation  made  up  of  several  of  the  most  reputable  persons  in 
the  Island : — to  keep  me  among  them,  they  offered  to  provide  hand- 
somely forme:— their  kind  offer  I  again  and  again  rejected :— how- 
ever, they  continued  to  hear,  believing  I  spoke  the  words  of  truth  and 
soberness,  and  as  they  phrased  it,  "  In  the  best  manner  they  had  ever 
heard." — "  Pity  it  was  that  I  could  not  be  permitted  to  preach  in  the 
Church  at  least  every  Sunday."  However,  this,  like  all  things  <:  under 
the  Sun,"  must  have  an  end.  By  and  bye,  one  of  these  gentry  staid 
away  ;  another  attended  less  frequently — then  he  dropped  off; — such 
and  such  did  not  come,  therefore,  I  lost  some  more ; — and  so  on,  till 
hardly  a  soul  of  them  came  either  on  Sabbaths  or  other  days.  I  was 
then  as  a  person  who  had  been  "  in  honour,  but  continued  not,"  and 
my  ministry  was  at  last  confined  to  "  the  poor,  the  best  friends  of  my 
God !"  These  cleaved  closely  to  me,  and  praised  God  that  the  candle- 
stick was  yet  in  its  place.  With  these  I  endeavoured  to  keep  on  my 
way,  and  the  dropping  in  of  one  now  and  then  to  Society,  held  up  my 
hands.  Persecutions  arose,  and  evil  reports  were  liberally  spread 
abroad ;  this  made  it  rather  dangerous  for  any  of  my  quondam  friends 
to  lake  any  notice  of  me;  then  I  was  obliged  fully  to  walk  alone,  but 
through  the  strength  of  God,  I  was  enabled  to  weather  every  trying 
circumstance.  Finally,  as  things  cannot  be  long  at  a  stay  "  under  the 
Sun,"  the  time  for  n  revolution  must  again  take  place,  and  the  honour 
that  I  sought  not,  had,  and  lost,  would,  as  unsought,  for,  again  return. 
One, — another, — and  another,  have  ventured  back,  heard, — were  pleas- 
ed and  profited  once  more, — brought  others  along  with  them,  till  at  last 
1  have  all  back  again,  with  an  accession  of  several  new  ones,  and  now 
I  am  "  an  honourable  man  ;"  and  surely  a  great  many  good  things 
would  not  be  too  good  for  me  now,  would  I  accept  them.  Thus  you 
see,  my  dear  Mary,  "  there  is  but  as  one  day  between  a  poor  man  and 
a  rich."  It  is  well,  it  is  ineffably  well,  to  have  a  happiness  that  is  not 
affected  by  the  great  and  many  changes  to  which  external  things  are 
incident :  what  a  blessing  to  be  able  to  sit  calm  on  the  wheel  of  for- 
tune, and  to  prosper  in  the  midst  of  adversity! 


248 


LETTERS. 


Thursday  Morning,  21. 
I  trust  I  can  say,  with  gratitude  to  God,  my  complaints  are  on  the 
remove:  and  though  I  cannot  say  I  feel  a  vast  deal  easier,  because  the 
natural  consequence  of  the  medicines  I  have  taken  is,  to  probe  keenly 
in' order  to  cure;  yet- 1  believe  I  am  better;  and  trust,  through  the 
blessing  of  the  Lord,  to  have  a  complete  cure.  Though  there  has 
been  preaching  in  English  three  limes  since  I  returned,  yet  I  have  not 
attempted  to  shew  myself  even  once  to  the  people.  Yesterday,  a  sol- 
dier belonging  to  the  Train,  whom  the  Lord  gave,  together  with  his 
wife,  sometime  ago,  to  my  feeble  labours,  came  to  see  me.  I  .have 
seldom  seen  more  affection,  commixed  with  as  much  of  childlike  sim- 
plicity as  you  can  conceive,  evidenced  before.  He  looked  in  my  face 
pitifully,  and  saying,  "  I  heard  you  was  sick,"  sat  down  in  a  chair, 
and  melted  into  tears.  Yes;  and  yet  he  is  a  soldier!  It  is  amazing, 
this  man  was  a  very  great  slave  to  drunkenness.  One  morning  last 
summer,  having  got  drunk  before  fire  o'clock !  he  some  way  or  other 
strolled  out  to  Les  Terres,  and  heard  me  preach,  and  was  deeply  con- 
vinced. "What!  and  he  drunk?"  Yes.  After  preaching  he  took  me 
by  the  hand,  and  with  the  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks,  betwixt 
drunkenness  and  distress,  he  was  only  capable  of  saying  a  very  few 
words : — "  O  Sir,  I  know  you  are  a  man  possessed  by  the  Spirit  of 
God."  He  went  home,  and  after  three  days'  agonies,  God,  in  tender 
compassion,  set  his  soul  at  liberty.  His  wife  also  set  out  for  the  same 
neaven  in  good  earnest :  and  shortly  found  the  peace  of  God  ;  and  both 
joined  the  Society,  and  have  walked  ever  since  most  steadfastly  in 
faith  and  good  works.    Glory  !  Glory  be  to  God  Most  High  ! 


Blessed  be  the  Lord,  it  has  been  a  time  of  much  good  both  to  my 
body  and  mind.  Since  the  27th,  on  which  I  wrote  last,  the  Lord  has 
opened  his  heaven  most  benignly  in  my  soul ;  and  with  that  has  given 
me  to  discover  Him  as  one  uniform,  uninterrupted,  eternal  Goodwill, 
towards  all  His  creatures.  When  I  look  into  myself  I  am  astonished 
that  He  condescends  to  pay  me  the  smallest  visit ;  but  when  I  contem- 
plate Him  under  the  above  attribute,  my  astonishment  ceases,  though 
I  cannot  forget  myself. 


Were  I  like  Mohammed's  feigned  angel,  having  to  my  lot,  "Seventy 
thousand  heads,  each  actuated  by  as  many  tongues  and  each  of  these 


LETTERS. 


249 


uttering  seventy  thousand  distinct  voices,"  with  my  present  ideas  of 
the  Divine  Being,  I  should  think  their  eternal  vibrations  in  His  praise 
an  almost  no  tribute  to  a  God  so  immeasurably  good  !  And  yet  where 
am  I  going  1  I  have  but  one  tongue,  and  that  speaks  but  very  inex- 
pressively, the  choicest  blessings  of  heaven  are  given  unto  me  j  and 
how,  how  seldom,  comparatively,  is  it  used  in  shewing  forth  His 
excellency,  or  acknowledging  how  deep  His  debtor  I  am  !  O,  my 
God  !  what  reason  have  /  to  be  ashamed  and  confounded  ?  But  Thou 
wilt  have  mercy.  Again,  1  discover  that  God  can  only  be  viewed  in 
the  above  light  through  God  made  Man  ;  i.  e.  manifested  in  the  flesh ; 
and  this  sets  forth  the  Redeemer  in  the  most  amiable  and  absolutely 
important  point  of  view.  God  through  Him  is  altogether  lovely ! 
But  remove  this  Medium,  and  this  my  beautiful  system  is  lost  in  chaos, 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.    Glory  be  to  God  for  Christ !  Amen. 


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